


Chapter 1: Make sure Sam goes to that interview.

by Firebog



Series: But Instead, We Become This [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Endverse Castiel is not a role model, Endverse Castiel is not exactly a happy or functional person, Excessive Alcohol Consumption, Generally one should do the opposite of Endverse Castiel, Rated mature mostly because Cas wildly abuses perscription drugs and alcohol, Seriously in a race between them getting together and a snail the snail would win, coping with emotions Winchester style, general abuse of prescription drugs, incredibly slow burn for anything Dean/Cas, kind of an attempted suicide, so much angst on Cas's part, the snail would probably lap them, twice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firebog/pseuds/Firebog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean listened to a story that started with him in Hell. Real literal Hell. And ended in a hell on earth. The whole thing sounded goddamned ridiculous. Angels? Prophets? The Devil? What a load of bullshit.</p><p>(The first Chapter of But Instead, We Become This. Endverse!Cas is unwillingly sent back to 2005 with a list that should stop the apocalypse; that's assuming he doesn't royally fuck it up. This is a story about trying to fix things when you're a little broken too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dudes time-traveling through motel room closets

**Author's Note:**

> This series runs in conjuncture with the series [The Only Thing We Have Left.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/97772) However! You do not need to read that in order to read this. It will make more sense though because Cas is a terribly unreliable narrator- wonder where he picked that up from?
> 
> The links throughout this work connect to memories/events collected in the series The Only Thing We Have Left. So if you're clicking on a link in the chapter you're clicking over to a secondary story that takes place in the past/future. 
> 
> If you're looking for smut in this series, sorry it's going to be awhile. The other series will have smut earlier on and I will gladly inform/warn you about it in the chapter notes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who the fuck was that? And more importantly, why did he have a note written in Dean's own fucking hand writing that Dean was pretty goddamned sure he hadn't written?

_October 2005..._

  


The closet door started to rattle.

Dean launched himself out of bed and drew his gun. A dirty gun-toting blood splattered scruffy hippy fell out of the closet with a huge canvas duffle bag flying out after him. Okay, that had _not_ been in there when Dean had checked in.

He kept his gun steady and yelled at the guy to do some fucking explaining in the very near future. The hippy didn't even acknowledge that he had a gun drawn on him. Instead he banged on the closet door, opening and closing it a few times in a rage. Finally he stopped, huffing out lungfuls of air like it hurt.

Dean watched as his crazy intruder started yanking something out of his breast pocket. Dean saw a flash of something silver and something gold before they were stuffed in a pants pocket. He yelled at the guy again, he had really better start answering some fucking questions. He started forward. The hippy raised a goddamned _submachine gun_ at him not even bothering to look his way. What kind of hippy carried a _submachine gun?_ Dean backed up as he watched the dude read something off two sheets of paper. He really hoped this wasn't a witch. Did witches carry submachine guns?

Whatever those two pages were about apparently hippy dude did not like it. Dean watched as the guy took off his gun and dropped it to the ground with the two pages. He dug into a pocket, pulling out a bottle of pills. Dean stared in shock as the intruder downed the whole thing then took off out the door. What the hell? What the ever loving hell? Seriously, what the hell _was_ that?

Dean went over and grabbed the two lined yellow pages. One was a rough short disjointed note and the other was a list. Both in Dean's own handwriting. ...huh?

 

* * *

_Hey Cas. Sorry about the rough ride. Well I assume it was a rough ride. Time travel is a bitch. You're probably wondering why? Right? Well you know, the whole self-sacrificing bullshit and all the can't leave Sammy behind no matter what stuff. So I'm sending you instead because I screwed up so bad with you. You deserve a second chance way more than I do. Hopefully you'll power back up since the angels will still be there but even if you don't I have faith in you. Funny right? Dean Winchester has faith in an angel. So yeah. Please try to fix this. I wrote a list that should change things. It should help (and I really fucking mean those last five- really mean the last one. I always meant the last one). I don't want this to happen to us again but hey, if you fuck it all up? I'll see you in about ten years. –Dean._

* * *

... 

What the hell?

He shuffled the pages around to read the second one.

 

* * *

_1\. Make sure Sam goes to that interview._  
_2\. Save Jess (she'll be the one in the smurf shirt)._  
_3\. Don't let my dad sell his soul._  
_4\. Don't let me sell my soul._  
_5\. Find Adam and make sure he's safe and doesn't say yes._  
_6\. Find Nick and make sure he's safe and doesn't say yes._  
_7\. Make sure Sam stays sharp and in shape (Cause you never know what can happen)._  
_8\. Keep me and Sam together. We're stronger together. (Don't let me be an ass about it)._  
_9\. Get off the fucking pills!_  
_10\. Stop getting blackout drunk!_  
_11\. Comb your fucking hair for once!_  
_12\. I know you're going to want to try again. Go for it. I think we could be happy- or at least less screwed up. (to be fair here's some forewarning, 26 year old me is kind of an asshole and a slut)_  
_13\. Good luck. I love you._

* * *

 

No really. What the hell?

He looked over the two pages a second time then bolted out the door. Where the fuck had that guy gone? Who the fuck was he and why did he have two notes written in Dean's own fucking hand writing that Dean was pretty goddamned sure he hadn't written.

He found the hippy, Cas he guessed, not very far away. He jumped him without warning and proceeded to jam his fingers down his throat not caring if he got bit. The dude puked up what he hoped was most of the pills then collapsed to the ground laughing. Laughing in a way that didn't bolster any images of sanity.

"Dude. You're hysterical. And not in the haha funny way." Dean said pulling him up to his feet. "In the vibrators and hysterectomy kind of way."

"That movie hasn't even come out yet!" The guy laughed manically. "Ha! _You_ don't understand that reference!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean started half dragging half carrying a deranged hippy to his motel room.

"Deeean. Oh Dean." The dude was obviously stoned despite the fingers down the throat routine. "You're such a **_fucking_** _idiot_."

"Thanks." Dean said.

He got his mystery dude into the motel room just in time for him to pass out. He rolled him onto the bed and checked his pulse. It was strong and steady. Okay. He had probably gotten most of the pills out of him even if he had gotten enough in his system to start acting like a freak. Or maybe that was just how motel closet submachine gun hippies acted? He pat him down. He found a handgun tucked into the waist of his jeans, a crap ton of pills and a flask, one hell of a silver dagger that looked like it had seen some use strapped to his leg, and two things that made Dean shake. A silver ring and a horned amulet. He set them down on the table and re-read the notes.

Who the fuck was this guy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why I tagged it as "kind of an attempted suicide", It's not really clear from Dean's perspective that Cas wasn't trying to kill himself since as far as Dean knows at this point Cas is a human with normal human tolerances for ingesting copious amounts of mysterious pills from unmarked bottles. Cas was more concerned about not feeling feelings anymore because feelings suck and he hates them (even though he probably _did_ over do it). I just wanted to bring this up here because it never really gets addressed by Cas because he thinks he knows his own limits and doesn't see any reason to explain himself to anybody.


	2. No one of consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean lowered the gun. He didn't think the dude was about to attack him but he did think he had been serious about the just shoot me now bit. He was fairly certain that this– this Cas was kind of fucked in the head. No one just calmly got dressed while a gun was pointed at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People who don't want to read about accidental overdose do not click the link "hellish headache"
> 
> We are now into the land of omnipresent POV

Cas woke up with a [hellish headache](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3315779). He hadn't had one this bad since—

The bed he was in was unfamiliar but waking up in unfamiliar beds had long ago lost their disorienting feel. He reached out to either side of him and felt no one. He rubbed at his forehead. Dried blood flaked off and fell into his eyes. Oh. Right.

He looked over and saw Dean sprawled across the table dead asleep. A younger less bitter looking Dean. A Dean that could fall asleep and drool all over the place instead of dozing on and off and snapping awake at the slightest hint of a noise with a gun already raised. A Dean that was clearly a complete fucking moron for falling asleep with a total stranger in the room who could make use of the guns laying around at a moments notice. Cas couldn't quite believe Dean had ever been this careless.

Cas went over to the table. His blade was laid out along with a row of neatly lined up orange pill bottles. Dean must have patted him down after he passed out. Yep, there was his flask and gun along side the ring and amulet. He picked the ring and amulet off the table and shoved them into his jeans pocket. He looked over the pill bottles again and grabbed a bottle he knew had some T3s in it. He fished out a couple for his headache and swallowed them dry.

The duffle bag had been investigated too. It was sitting open on the chair beside Dean. Cas cast a final glance at Dean- the careless fucking idiot- and hauled the duffle bag over to the bed to go through it; to see what else Dean, _his Dean_ , had sent with him. Some clothes, some things for hunting, money (a crap load of money), a couple of Dean's shirts (no doubt a joke on his part), nothing really special, just practical; like Dean. Fuck. Dean, what did you do?

He looked back to younger Dean and that was when he noticed a bunch of tan fabric thrown over the back of the chair on the other side of Dean. He stepped closer to look. A strange mix of disbelief and dread raced through him. There was a piece of yellow paper pinned to the ever so fucking familiar coat. _For when you get your shit back together._ He laughed to himself quietly, of course Dean would keep something like that a secret for years, just waiting to spring it on him– to twist the knife in just a little bit deeper. What an asshole. [He wondered where Dean had managed to hide it.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3315926)

He stood there looking between the coat and a sleeping younger Dean. He ran a hand through his hair contemplating what he'd do next. When he took his hand away it was unsurprisingly greasy. Water had been scarce the last two months and he hadn't had a real shower in years. He looked over at the bathroom. The bathroom that would have an unlimited supply of water completely safe to drink. No line up to get in. No croats possibly hiding inside. A fucking miracle.

He stripped down and went into the bathroom. He touched the faucet reverently before turning it on. Hot water poured out (holy crap Dean! Real hot fucking water!). He let it fall over his hands. He watched, utterly absorbed in the tumble of fresh clean water. He turned the lever that turned the shower on then stepped in. He scrubbed himself down with the motel soap and shampoo as fast as he could out of habit. Then...then what?

The shower was still pouring out water– hot water at that. He didn't have to hurry and let someone else have their turn before the water ran out and Dean wasn't about to—

A sob wracked through his chest. He ducked his head under the water. The tears were indistinguishable from the water that flowed over his face and down the drain. Dean wasn't about to do anything. Dean wanted to march to his death without him and the worst part? Even when Dean thought it was the _end_ he still wouldn't say **_it_** to his face. Dean had given him a stupid fucking note instead. _A fucking **note**_. They had gone through everything together and he got a **_note_**. A throwaway line at the end of some instructions. And then? [Then Dean had left him. Again.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3315995)

\---

When Cas came out of the bathroom he was facing down Dean's gun. Cas rolled his eyes and ignored it. He had faced down worse than guns, "Hello Dean."

"Okay, I am going to ask you some questions and this time you're _going_ to answer them or I swear to god I _will_ shoot you." Dean said, his voice was stony. This was not his idea of a good fucking morning. He wasn't in the mood for this, not with Dad missing. "Who and _what_ the fuck are you, how do you know my name, and why do you have exact fucking copies of my stuff?"

"Just call me Cas, you'll do it anyway so might as well skip the Castiel part. I guess I'm a friend but that hasn't happened yet. The rest you wouldn't understand, won't believe, or won't care." Cas said as he quietly changed from the towel around his hips into clothing. The last time he met Dean for the first time there was decidedly more stabbing involved. He debated on giving him the raised you from perdition speech for old times sake but instead he gave Dean a smile halfway between smirking and flirting, "It might be better if you just shoot me now and get it over with. Save us both the trouble."

"....you are one sick puppy." Dean said. He lowered the gun. He didn't think the dude was about to attack him (though he might still be a witch) but he _did_ think he had been serious about the just shoot me now bit. He was fairly certain that this– this _Cas_ was kind of fucked in the head. No one just calmly got dressed while a gun was pointed at them. Not to mention he had just watched him down a bottle of pills a few hours ago. But...well...he didn't think he was dangerous exactly and those notes....and his ring and amulet....it was kind of hard to not lend credence to the possibility that the time travel thing _might_ be true.

"Generally yeah." Cas said sitting down on the bed. He bounced a little. The mattress was by no means new but it hadn't been left outside or dragged through the mud and it wasn't propped up on a bunch of cinder blocks. It probably didn't even have bugs in it. Probably.

Dean loomed over him. The guy just grinned back up at him like it was all some big joke. Yeah, great joke, busting out of someone's closet while they're sleeping. Haha, so funny. He scowled down at– at _Cas_. He nodded towards the duffle bag. "So....that's a hell of a lot of money."

"Yeah." Cas gave the duffle bag a shove, "Good thinking on your part."

"Right." Dean cast a glance over to the letters. There was the time travel thing again. He'd think the whole thing was some witch set up if it wasn't for the ring and the amulet. There was no way anyone could fake those down to such detail. It left him wondering, did some version of his future self really send this scruffy drugged up hippy here to fix something? How the hell was this guy supposed to fix anything? He had tried to kill himself within the first five minutes of getting here. Future him was obviously losing his edge, "I read the ah... _notes_. Time travel huh?"

"Time travel." Cas agreed. He brushed his hand back and forth over the blanket. It was clean. It had probably even been washed in _real_ laundry detergent instead of scrubbed down in lukewarm water and nothing else. "All the way from two thousand and fourteen. Still no plutonium in every corner store."

Dean let out an abrupt laugh but caught himself quickly. He tried to make his serious hunter face but he couldn't quite keep it on. He eyed the notes on the table warily, "And I wrote those notes?"

"Well **you** didn't obviously." Cas flopped backwards onto the bed. Why was he even doing this? He should be trying to recreate the spell before Dean did something stupid like die without him. " **My** you, your future you did. [Does future you make you uncomfortable?"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3316058)

"How do I even know this is legit?" Dean went over to the table, ignoring the uncomfortable comment, because yeah if the notes were authentic he was fucking uncomfortable. It sounded like this guy really meant something to future him. Future him sounded kind of– well... _gay_. And not to mention the selling his soul bit (Dad just would flat out not do that). That was pretty uncomfortable sounding too. He pressed the papers down again and looked back to the guy on the bed. "What's something I would have told you that no one else would know?"

"You want to play _that_ game?" Cas laughed before sitting back up. He let his head drift to the side just a little. He smirked at Dean. He reached into the duffle bag and drew out a fistful of cash. "How about instead we play the, let the rich stranger with a duffle bag full of cash tag along game? I'll explain as we go."

"Go where?" Dean asked suspicious. He wasn't about to go anywhere with- with _Cas_. It could still all be some kind of elaborate witch trap.

"You're going to see Sam, right?" Cas tossed the money back into the bag. He might as well go along with Dean's ridiculous plan while he tried to think of a way home. "It's number one on the list. Make sure he goes to the interview. I assume Dean would have sent me back just in time to do that and then go from there."


	3. No one should know too much about their destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas sighed as the music came on. Everything here was a trip down memory lane and every step felt like he was walking barefoot on broken glass. He should really be trying to get back to Dean...but how...?

Cas was right, Dean was on his way to see Sam. Dean packed up the few things he had and headed for the impala. He still made Cas play the game. Dean wasn't about to let a supposed acquaintance from the future tag along with him just because of some trinkets and a note.

Cas told him the story of how Dean became a sad little boy standing beside his house while it burned down with his mother inside and that it was a demon who was responsible for it.

"Dude. I bet half the hunters in the country know that story." Dean scoffed though it was enough for Dean to believe that he'd rather keep an eye on the stranger that knew that story _and_ had just appeared from his motel room closet. Still, it wasn't enough for Dean to believe him about the Back to the Future II crap (the first movie was better anyway). "Dad isn't exactly subtle when he asks for information. Try again."

This was harder than Cas had thought. The parts of Dean's life he knew best were things that hadn't happened yet to this Dean. What the hell would convince _this_ Dean? He came up with a name. "Cassie."

"What?" Dean bristled at the name. It had been a couple of years now but it still hurt.

"You told her, about what you do, and she dumped you." Cas said. His Dean had laughed coldly about it when he had told Cas but this Dean looked like he was still feeling that raw hurt from having someone throw that kind of trust back in his face. Which was fine with Cas since Dean would eventually do it to him. Dean deserved it– asshole. Especially after that stupid fucking note.

Dean ground his jaw but didn't say anything. So maybe this guy was legit. He didn't think it was likely he had a stalker and he didn't know how a witch would figure that out. He nodded towards the car, "Come on. Guess you can ride with me."

Cas was going to make a snide remark about Dean's use of the word ride when he spotted her. All other thoughts evaporated from his head. How had he forgotten about her? It had been so long. He ran a hand over her. She was warm under the sun. He sighed just a little. He leaned into her, letting the heat soak into him. This time the sigh was more of a moan. To see her like this...he sighed again. It had been years since the impala had been anything but a pile of rust.

"Dude. Stop making out with my car." Dean said as he grabbed that extra large duffle bag off Cas and heaved it into the trunk. For someone carrying around a shit load of money Cas didn't seem too concerned to have it taken off him.

["This was my first home."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3331844) Cas said. He ran his hand over her like a long lost lover. She was a symbol of– well not happier times but of [more hopeful times](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3331898), before everything had turned to shit and now her she was. Gleaming under the sun, taken care of and loved again.

"Yeah?" Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to interrupt the heavy petting session. Cas had been kind of bitchy about the Cassie thing and now he was fondling his car, calling it his home. The dude was a freak. He wasn't sure why he was agreeing to let him come anywhere with him. It was just...he had the _ring_ and the _amulet_.

Cas just nodded in response before trailing his hand along the side of the car to the passenger side door. He let out a mournful sigh. Dean had let his baby rust out on the grounds of Camp Chitaqua, occasionally taking [a shovel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3331970) or [a pry bar](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3332021) to her when he was feeling particularly hopeless about the Apocalypse.

"Okay, so if she was your first home show me something about her." Dean challenged.

Cas ran his hand tenderly over the car while he thought. He went to the back door and opened it. He waited for Dean to open the other door and lean in. Cas pointed at two sets of initials. "You and Sam carved this when you were nine. Your father was so mad he barely talked to you for a month if he wasn't yelling, not because you had marked up the impala but because Sam wasn't even five yet and you gave him a knife."

Dean looked impressed for a moment then pulled his face back into a more guarded expression. "Alright. Come on. It's a long drive."

Cas got in the car and popped back a few pills. Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye but didn't say anything. Cas stroked the dashboard and wondered what he'd find in this Dean's glove box. He sighed. He knew he should be trying to find a way back to Dean but how? He was fairly certain Dean had every intention of killing himself tomorrow– about ten years from now– and every spell he could think of would send him back to 2014 after the same amount of subjective time had passed for him. He needed something that would bring him back to the exact same moment. Angels maybe? They'd probably just kill him.

After about a minute of silence Dean spoke up. "Put your seatbelt on."

That got a slow grin from Cas. He reached back and pulled the seatbelt down. He buckled up, "Happy?"

"Overjoyed." Dean said sarcastically. He already regretted letting this dude into his car. He turned the radio on and pushed a tape back into the stereo. ACDC came on.

Cas sighed as the music came on. Everything here was a trip down memory lane and every step felt like he was walking barefoot on broken glass. He should really be trying to get back to Dean...but how...? No. Screw how— _why?_ When it had come to the end Dean had gotten rid of him; wouldn't even let him be there when he'd need him the most. _Asshole_. And then there was that stupid fucking note. When he figured out a spell to send himself home to Dean he was going to kick Dean's ass and _then_ they could go out in their blaze of glory (Dean had promised after all). He sighed again, it would be a few minutes before the drugs kicked in and he stopped getting worked up over Dean kicking him to the past curb. He reached over towards the radio.

Dean slapped Cas's hand away. "Driver picks the music, shotgun keeps his fingers off."

Cas gave him a bemused look and reached back over to turn it up.

Dean glanced over surprised. He had pegged Cas for, well a _hippy_ , who'd like _hippy_ music (what did hippies listen to anyway?). "You like this?"

"Well you did teach me the finer points of music appreciation." Cas said. He tapped his fingers along the door for a moment before deciding one more pill wouldn't hurt. He unscrewed the bottle and downed two more.

"Right. Future me." Dean wasn't _exactly_ convinced on that point yet, even with the ring and amulet. He watched Cas stuff the pill bottle back into his pocket before flicking his eyes back to the road. "What's with the pills anyway? Not going to try and OD on me again?"

"They take the edge off." Cas explained. That first chemical cocktail was just starting to sink in. He could feel it spread out from his chest and pump though his veins.

"Off what?" Dean asked.

"The Apocalypse." Cas said simply. It was old news to him. "Want some?"

"Huh?" Dean asked surprised at the casual offer. He was starting to see why number nine was _get off the fucking pills!_ Cas hadn't been awake for more than three hours and Dean had already seen him swallow down like six or seven pills from that nondescript orange bottle and none of them had been the same.

"Want to enjoy the ride? Be awake? Mellow out? Focused?" Cas continued.

"Ummm...be awake?" Dean said not knowing what else to say.

"Awake it is." Cas dumped two white pills into his hand. He offered them to Dean.

Dean glanced over surprised. He hadn't meant he suddenly wanted a bunch of freaking mystery pills off a drug addict. He shook his head at Cas's offer. What was with this guy? He watched out of the corner of his eye as Cas carefully put them back into the bottle. "So what? You just get all screwed up on like– acid and shit to deal with whenever you're from?"

"I've never done acid." Cas said thoughtfully. He turned to look out the window. The scenery was boring and plain; people walking, driving, sitting, standing. Not a single wrecked car or body. Wasn't that nice?

Dean didn't believe that. This guy looked like he had tried it all. " _Really?"_

"It's surprisingly hard to find acid during the Apocalypse. It doesn't just grow on its own. People don't just leave it laying around the way they do their medicine cabinets." Cas said. He went back to tapping along to the music. The pills had finally worked their magic. He could safely say, who the fuck cared about Dean? And mean it.

They listened through Back in Black and Thunderstruck before Dean turned the music down a little. "Alright, so you said you'd explain as we go. Well we're _going_ and all I know is you get high and you like good music and you just casually drop the word apocalypse into conversation."

Cas exhaled long and loud as he let all the feeling rush out of him. Yeah, he could explain the Apocalypse to a young naive Dean now. "Alright, let me tell you a story..."

Dean listened to a story that started with him in Hell. Real literal Hell. And ended in a Hell on Earth. The whole thing sounded goddamned ridiculous. Angels? Prophets? The Devil? What a load of bullshit...except, something about the gun-toting hippy who had fallen head first out of an empty motel closet made him think it might- just maybe- be true. "So we fought the good fight? Ganked the evil sons of bitches?"

"Well we fought _a_ fight and we killed _some_ bitches." Cas said. It was actually kind of relaxing sitting in the car with Dean. He hadn't felt this at ease around Dean in years, probably because this wasn't really Dean, not his Dean anyway. "If you can't tell, it didn't turn out very well for us."

"Right. Yeah. I guess it wouldn't be the apocalypse if it turned out all sunshine and rainbows." Dean frowned. Cas made him sound like a total dick in ten years time. The whole story made it sound like Dean had just made one bad choice after another. He hadn't talked to Sam in awhile but being told that he'd send him away to die within the next ten years? He couldn't believe that. He wouldn't do that to Sammy.

"Don't look so morose. Pain and suffering are prerequisites for the Apocalypse. It wasn't your fault." Cas said as pulled the shoebox up from between his feet. He started perusing Dean's tape collection. There were a few in the shoe box that in Cas's time had been broken or missing for a couple of years. He offered a tape to Dean, "Put this in?"

Dean grabbed the tape, surprised again. At least Cas respected the rules of the road, the driver got the ultimate choice when it came to music. He looked the tape over. It was a good choice. He ejected the last tape and slid the new one in, ["Zep two. Good choice."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3332147)

They slipped into silence again. Cas let the thoughts in his head zip by with the passing scenery. He felt safe in the impala; music just a little too loud, Dean drumming his fingers along the top of the steering wheel. [Zep two always sounded like home.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3332180)

Dean mulled over what Cas had just told him. "You know you don't seem very...angelic for an angel."

Cas rolled his head over to look at Dean. He gave him an amused smirk. "I'm mortal now. No flying. No smiting. No healing. It kind of sucks. But-" He shrugged, "I wasn't a very good angel anyway. I'm practically human now."

"Yeah, getting high with the best of us." Dean rolled his eyes. "Hate to say it Cas but from what I've seen you don't make a very good human either."

Cas narrowed his eyes at him, "I learned to be human from you, you know. In the middle of an apocalypse. You weren't a very good teacher and the Apocalypse wasn't a very good classroom."

And that was the end of that conversation. The silence this time was thick with tension. Cas turned away and watched the endless expanse of humanity go by.

Dean stared ahead wondering what the hell he was going to do with this guy?


	4. Dr. Weir would make a good demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't want to talk to this Dean. He didn't want to talk to any Dean. He would however like to punch Dean in the nose.

They stopped that night because there was no chance in hell that Dean was letting Cas drive his car. He didn't know the dude _and_ he was high as a fucking kite. They bought a pizza and a case of beer- Dean made Cas buy it since he was the one with a duffle bag full of money (seriously, how much money was in there?)- then holed up for the night.

Dean sat at the table munching away on pizza while keeping a wary eye on Cas who was sitting on the other side of the room on one of the beds. He wasn't sure what Cas was up to but he figured the dude was probably up to something. He had a shifty-eyed look about him and he was twitchy (maybe that was just the drugs). "What was it like?"

"I told you." Cas gave him a clipped answer. He didn't want to talk to this Dean. He didn't want to talk to _any_ Dean. He would however like to punch Dean in the nose. Fuck that stupid fucking note. Dean was such...an _asshole_. And he had sent him away. [Had left him.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3370040) _Again_. And the more he thought about it the more he realized getting home was going to be next to impossible. He needed to go _now_ , before Dean did something, but he needed to get the ingredients for the spell, but that would take too long because he needed to go _now_ , but to go now- it just went on and on in that endless loop. He thought about calling up some angels again but...no. They really would just kill him. Maybe— no. No he wasn't _that_ desperate and what could he do anyway? Time travel without Heaven's will behind it would be nearly impossible.

"Yeah, you told me what _happened_ , I mean what was it _like?_ " Dean asked. He got up and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge. He thought about giving Cas one but— no fucking way. The dude had emptied out two bottles of mystery pills today.

"What was it like?" Cas repeated the question, glaring over at him. What the hell did this idiot _think_ it was like? He let out a long angry breath. He needed this Dean if he ever figured out a spell. Addresses were always in blood. He prodded at his pizza slice, "Longest four years of my life and I've lived a really long time."

Dean let it go. It was obvious Cas wasn't going to get into that story. Dean couldn't blame him. It was just that....well, he was _curious_. When they had stopped to get pizza Cas had looked around like he didn't quite understand how to order food. It was weird. The dude knew how to handle a gun obviously (and knew his prescription drugs) but he seemed out of place in a pizza joint. Was there no pizza during the apocalypse? Dean shrugged to himself and moved on to something else, "So Heaven and Hell...what're those like?"

Cas dropped his pizza down to the napkin. He ran his hand through his hair. Was it ask stupid questions day? He moved back on the bed so he could lean against the wall and stare at the one opposite him. He'd humour this Dean for now, "Hell is pretty much what you'd expect it to be. Fire, pain, blood, the endless screaming of souls, demons...think of Event Horizon, Dr. Weir would make a good demon."

"Been there before?" Dean asked.

Cas picked at the bedspread. He had glossed over the fact that it had been him to raise Dean from Hell. "Once."

"What for?" Dean asked.

"The usual reason, Heaven's work had to be done." Cas pulled the napkin that had his pizza on it a bit closer. He picked off an olive and ate it. He didn't really feel like eating anymore. He didn't really feel like feeling anymore. He grabbed the closest bottle of pills and undid the lid. He squinted inside. Three left. It would do. He poured them into his mouth and grabbed his glass of water off the bedside table and swallowed them down.

"Oh." Dean wasn't really sure what that meant but then he wasn't even sure he _completely_ believed the angel part. Cas looked more like a scruffy hunter than an angel. "And Heaven?"

"Heaven is..." Cas searched for a way to explain his familial home. [He _really_ didn't want to think about that right now.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3370133) He settled on one word, "Complicated." 

Dean was going to say that complicated wasn't an answer but Cas got up and headed for the bathroom. The shower turned on a few minutes later. That was just freaking great. Dean looked over at the four empty beer bottles beside him. Fuck. He was going to have to use the bathroom in the hotel lobby.


	5. Trapped in a car with a drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay, look, how about, you help me with this stuff on the list about Sam and selling souls and stuff." Dean said, he thought he had a pretty good quid pro quo figured out, "And I'll help you figure out your spell. That work for you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the show can retcon...anything they want, I can retcon seatbelts. 
> 
>    
> ***Warnings for excessive alcohol consumption. And I _really_ mean excessive.***  
>   
> 
> Word of Advice: Don't drink 190-proof alcohol like Cas.  
> .  
> So the link "make me" leads to sad dysfunctional aborted smut. The link "the best noises" leads to satisfying enjoyable smut.

Cas was gone.

Dean didn't think that Cas had taken off for good (he wasn't _that_ lucky). The duffle bag full of cash and guns was still on the other bed when he woke up, so he figured Cas would turn up eventually. He waited around until it was check out then packed their stuff up and threw it into the impala. Not long after he spotted Cas skulking along the edge of the parking lot towards him. Dean gave him a sharp look, "Where were you?"

"Getting supplies." Cas said cradling two paper bags with two bottles apiece inside them. He headed straight for the passenger side of the car and got in. He set the paper bags down on the floor between his feet and pulled his flask out of his coat. He reached down and took out a bottle. He unscrewed his flask and then the bottle. He could feel Dean staring at him, "What?"

Dean watched as Cas filled his flask up, stopping half way through to take a slug out of the bottle, then continue pouring. This dude had some serious fucking problems. Dean was pretty sure that he had yet to see him one hundred percent sober. "Nothing."

"Good." Cas said screwing the cap back onto his flask. He secreted it away into his jacket. Today was going to be rough and he was already running low on his escape of choice. Booze would have to suffice because Dean was going up against the Devil and he wasn't going to be sober and think about _that_.

"What is that?" Dean asked. The label on the bottle was hidden under Cas's hand.

"Everclear. One ninety proof. I'm told they don't sell it in California." Cas said before proceeding to drain the rest of the bottle because Dean was going up against the Devil _without_ him and there was no chance in hell he wanted to have to _think_ about that.

"Holy shit!" Dean tried to snatch the bottle away from Cas.

Cas batted his arm away and gave him the finger.

Dean stared in horrified disbelief as he watched Cas try to murder his liver.

Bottle drained, Cas opened the car door and put the empty down on the ground. He closed the door. "Alright let's go."

Dean shook his head, "Don't you dare get alcohol poisoning and puke in my care."

Cas laughed, "I'd have to drink a lot more than that."

"Jesus christ." Dean muttered. He shook his head again and started the car. Yeah, serious fucking problems.

\---

Cas slouched down in his seat, "No."

"Put it back on." Dean demanded. Cas had taken his seatbelt off and was refusing to put it back on like a bratty five year old.

"What? You going to [make me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3392375)?" Cas asked. His face fell as the past pushed in on him. He felt a familiar hole start to crack open in his chest. He filled those cracks with another gulp of Everclear. Today was bad enough as it was. He didn't need to start dragging up every other tragedy of the last few years on top of it. "I'd like to see you try."

Dean gave up. He had been having this argument for the last thirty minutes, "Fine. If we crash you'll be the one smeared on the road."

"Good. I look forward to it." Cas said. He brought the bottle to his lips and took another swig. Today was _horrible_. Dean was out there somewhere trying to kill the Devil. _Without_ him. The Devil who was his brother and wearing Dean's brother and everyone was just out to kill their brother today weren't they? The only good thing about today was that he had finally found a brand of booze that was worth his while to drink.

\---

"So what's with the Dean Martin act?" Dean asked as Cas finished off the second bottle. Cas had seemed dysfunctional at best since he launched out of his motel room closet but this was fast becoming overkill. He could almost believe Cas's _I'm an angel_ story just because Cas wasn't passed out on the floor in an alcoholic coma yet.

"I don't know, maybe because-" Cas took a swig from the bottle, "-up until yesterday the world was ending-" Another swig, "-and you sent me here with that stupid fucking **_note_** -" A very large gulp went down after that, "-and you're probably trying to shoot-" a careful sip as they went over a bumpy patch in the road, "-your brother right about now and I can't get home in time to help you."

"Whoa, whoa, why am I shooting Sam?" Dean asked panicked. "You said Sam died."

"Well, more or less- _my_ brother is [wearing him](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3392492). Lucifer isn't nice to his vessels. You're going to kill _both_ our brothers." Cas inspected the now empty bottle...maybe today wasn't _so_ bad. "I like this. We need to get more of this."

"Yeah, sure. Now back up there, to the part about Sam being possessed by the Devil." Dean said. Who just sprung that on someone and changed the subject!?

"Sam said yes to Lucifer and blew up Detroit and kills people and we try to put the world back together and fail and I don't like you." Cas said as he stowed the empty bottle under the seat and felt around for the next one. "It's all rather straight forward."

"Right. Straight forward." Dean said. He stared at the road ahead of him wide eyed. What the hell? What _happened_ to future him? How could he let Sam get possessed by _the freakin' **Devil**?_ Dean shook his head, "Yeah, what was I thinking?"

\---

Cas set the third bottle- now empty- down on the floor. He swung his head around and stared at Dean with big glassy eyes when they came to a red light because Dean was...Dean was _driving_ and....

Dean looked over. He shrugged at him, "What?"

Cas let out a long sigh. A lazy sort of smile worked its way up his face. "Fearle- _Dean_. You've always been my favourite human. _Always_."

Dean smiled because he recognized _that_ stage of being drunk. Everyone was your best buddy when you got to that stage. He figured Cas was a quarter of a bottle away from the you-don't-even-know drunk. He let out a couple breathy laughs and humoured him, "Sure dude. You're my favourite whatever you are too."

That _laugh_ – and— and that _smile_ and Dean said he was his _favourite_ too? It was too much. Dean hadn't said anything half as nice in a year. When had Dean suddenly decided to stop being an asshole? Why was he always so....so _Dean?_ Cas flung himself across the bench seat.

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock.

Cas took advantage of that and slipped him some tongue. He sighed as a familiar spark ran through him that screamed **_Dean_** down to the smallest synapses.

A squeak of surprise escaped Dean (not that Dean ever made those kinds of sounds).       

Cas's chest heaved in silent breathy laughter. Dean made [the best noises](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3392519) when he was caught off guard. He ran his tongue along Dean's and tried to figure out if he wanted to fuck him or be fucked by him. Either way they needed to pull over or hurry the hell up and get home. Maybe do it in the HQ— _wait a second_. He pulled away and sat back down. Shit. Cas slunk down in his seat. Shit. He glanced over at Dean. Shit. That wasn't Dean. ... _shit_.

The car behind them honked. The light was green. Dean was still staring at Cas in shock, "Dude! Not cool! I do _not_ kiss dudes."

Cas stared at him wide eyed for a moment before he chuckled to himself.

"I will leave your drunk ass on the road if you do that again." Dean said scrubbing his mouth with his hand. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Who just _does_ that? He stepped on the gas when the car behind them honked again.

Cas broke out into laughter. Dean didn't kiss _dudes?_ Right. He had several years worth of proof that said otherwise- _wait, wait, wait_. Cas settled himself down. This wasn't _his_ Dean. This was just someone who looked and talked and shared most of the same memories as Dean. A few stray chuckles escaped him but he managed to get out a quiet, "Sorry."

"It's not funny." Dean glared over at the drunk idiot beside him. Fucking weirdo hippy.

"Of course it is." Cas said. It had to be funny because if it wasn't a romantic comedy it was definitely a tragedy. Dean had written him that note. He had said it. _Finally_. Cas was going to frame that note and display it in prominent public locations on a rotational basis. The tragedy part came in because Dean was probably dead by now and this– _impostor_ had the gall to sit there and stare at him with– with his stupid _eyes_.

"No it's not." Dean said firmly. "I'm serious. Don't do that."

Cas looked over at Dean. Dean had sent him back here to deal with Dean. To try and save Dean instead of Dean because Dean didn't have hope for himself anymore just Dean...that was too confusing. Cas glared over at Dean. "I'm not sure if I hate you or love you."

"You don't even know me." Dean retorted. That was just great, now _he_ was starting up the you-don't-even-know stage of being drunk and he hadn't even _drank_ anything. Dear god this was going to be a long car ride.

Cas laughed because if there was one thing he knew it was Dean fucking Winchester.

\---

Cas tapped his fingers along the door to the beat of the next Metallica song. "You know. It occurs to me, if I can't figure out a spell I can just wait it out."

"What?" Dean asked wearily. He was tired of the depressed act Cas had going on again. He guessed the dude had something to be depressed over but seriously, there was only so much one person could take.

"Well I'll get to go home if I wait long enough, right?" Cas said still tapping along. He watched the other cars go by. It was so strange to see traffic again.

"...you'd let the world fall apart just so you can go home." Dean didn't say it as a question because it was obvious this drunk as all fuck asshole beside him would do it; let everything go to shit and let Sam get possessed by the Devil. He really should have ditched him at the last hotel.

Cas turned a red-eyed stare on Dean. Dean had sounded _hurt_. This Dean was so... _open_. "I..."

"Look, if all this stuff is going to happen–" Dean started.

"It will." Cas interjected.

"We gotta do everything we can to stop it." Dean finished. Between having to deal with Cas and traffic Dean had spent a couple of minutes here and there during the drive thinking over that list. If it was really true he had a _how to list_ to save Sam and stop the apocalypse even if he didn't understand some of the stuff on there.

Cas sighed and leaned against the window letting his head rattle along with the vibrations, "We can't. It's destiny."

"Screw destiny." Dean said. Heaven and angels might not be bullshit- maybe- but destiny definitely was. He made his own choices.

"You always did have [a fetish for free will.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3392825)" Cas muttered closing his eyes.

\---

"Looking out the window! Not a thing to see!" Cas suddenly yelled out.

Dean yelped and swerved the car. Cas had been dead asleep for the last hour but had apparently woken up– and decided to yell along with the radio. "Jesus fucking christ, Cas!"

"Only my reflection staring back at me!" Cas said staring at his reflection in the window.

"Jesus christ dude, you sing worse than me." Dean said shaking his head.

Cas reached down and grabbed the last bottle of Everclear. He turned and winked, grinning at Dean before he yelled out the next line, "I close my eyes and wonder how long it's gonna be!"

"Dude, seriously. You suck." Dean said but he couldn't keep a serious face. Cas's hair was standing on end and he was wriggling in the passenger seat to the beat of the music, all while half in the bag. Some fucking angel this guy was supposed to be.

"I know I've got to travel, but the-" Cas took a quick sip from the bottle, "Hiiiighwaaaay's killing meee!"

Dean turned the radio up trying to drown out Cas's singing.

\---

"Okay, look, how about, you help me with this stuff on the list about Sam and selling souls and stuff." Dean said, he thought he had a pretty good quid pro quo figured out, "And I'll help you figure out your spell. That work for you?"

"Yeah....sure." Cas nodded. He drained the last bottle of Everclear. Well that was depressing. Now he'd have to think about Dean trying to kill the Devil. Nope. That wouldn't do. He held the empty bottle up to Dean. "...can we stop?"

Dean shook his head at Cas and his empty bottle, dude was going to have a wicked hangover probably even before he managed to sober up, that was assuming his liver didn't fail before then, "Fine. But you're buying it."

\---

"Would you just shut up?" Dean said. He was getting agitated. Between Cas and the shitty city traffic he was going to lose his mind.

Cas glowered at him.

"Look. I'm not fucking dead am I?" Dean tried to reason with him.

Cas scoffed, that was a thoroughly temporal argument. "You're trying to die as we speak, maybe already dead."

"No I'm not, because it hasn't happened." Dean retorted and it wouldn't.

"It's happening right now." Cas insisted.

"It hasn't happened yet and I'm not going to let it happen." Dean said. He had no intention of selling his soul or letting the Devil jump Sam's bones. That shit was not happening. He was going to lace into Cas for insisting it was but when he glanced over Cas was curling in on himself. He had his hands in his hair and had pulled his feet up on the seat.

Cas wrapped his head in his arms trying to hide from— _everything_. The world was a terrible place and he was stuck in the wrong time with no one, "I just want to go [home.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3392873)"

\---

"...you know, you're not half bad." Dean admitted after a few moments of silence. It was weird because it was true. When Cas wasn't raving about the apocalypse or getting all depressed and shit or _handsy_ (dear god that had been fucking mortifying) he was actually kind of okay.

"Thanks." Cas chuckled. He gave Dean a more friendly smirk.

"And you have good taste in music." Dean continued.

Cas laughed, "You mean I have _your_ taste in music."

"Same thing." Dean said– it was totally true anyone who said differently was lying to themselves.

"You wish it were." Cas laughed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so while writing this I realized that I can't write about alcohol without sounding like a Canadian. I just gave it up after awhile. Which is why it's a little vague as to how much Cas is drinking but rest assured it is a fuck of a lot.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure where Cas would just happen to find 4 bottles of 190-proof booze but he's resourceful and has a duffle bag full of money.
> 
> Cas was singing Highway (Killing Me) by Foghat


	6. You don't have co-workers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He listened to them argue without hearing the words. It was heated arguing but it wasn't the kind of cold life or death arguing he was used to. This was almost relaxing- or maybe that was the pot.

The sun had set an hour ago. Cas played with the two joints and a lighter he had just bought. Thank god for college towns. The kid he had bought them off had almost choked when he had opened up the duffle bag and searched around for a bill of a lower denomination.

His hands quit fiddling with the lighter and joints when Dean and Sam came out of the apartment arguing about their father. Typical.

"Was she wearing a smurf shirt?" Cas called out, he was still more than a little drunk. Especially since they had made a stop and found out that while California didn't sell the 190-proof stuff they did allow the sale of 151-proof. Everclear was the best part about 2005.

Sam wrinkled his nose at the question. Why was a scruffy looking guy in torn up jeans asking about Jess? He glanced at Dean suspiciously, "Who's that?"

"Cas. He's...alright." Dean said still heading for the car. The eight hour car ride today had made him change his tune just a little bit. Cas wasn't _so_ bad- at least when he wasn't predicting the end of the world and Sam being possessed. It wasn't like they were friends (or whatever those notes implied) but he had a decent taste in music and knew how to talk shop. He flashed a grin at Cas, "Yeah. She was."

"Dean, _who's_ Cas?" Sam asked as he followed Dean to the tail end of the impala. Why would Dean bring a stranger along to look for Dad? Dean never worked with anyone but family.

Dean took a moment to answer, before opening the trunk. He couldn't tell Sam about what Cas said was going to happen. Not if he wanted Sam to come with him and leave Jess behind while they dealt with family business. A ghost hunt was no place for a lady- especially one in a smurf shirt. They'd be back in time to help Jess, "A-ah...a... _co-worker_."

"And?" Cas asked trying to prompt Dean for more information about the smurf shirt. He came around to stand with them.

Dean smirked at Cas, "Let's say I liked the smurfs."

Sam gave them both an unimpressed look as they talked. He glared at Cas then turned to Dean, "A _co-work?_ You don't have _co-workers_ Dean."

Cas made an appreciative noise at Dean's smurf comment and lit one of his newly acquired joints– he needed to mellow out after _that_ car ride. He put the other joint and the lighter into his breast pocket for later. "Blonde, right?"

"Stop fantasising about my girlfriend." Sam said almost snapping at him but not quite. He waved angrily at Cas, " _Dean_ , who the hell is this guy? I thought you wanted help looking for Dad."

"I do. And I told you. He's a co-worker. A hunter." Dean said finally pulling out a folder of papers. He would deal with the Cas stuff later. Right now he needed to find Dad. ...but what if Cas's list was right and Dad wasn't just caught up in a hunt? What if Dad was trying to sell his soul? Damn it. Now Cas had him paranoid.

Sam finally noticed what Cas was getting up to. His eyes went wide, "Are you getting _high?"_

"Not like I'm going to see manta rays and bats." Cas said with an amused smile at Sam's offended look. He held the joint out to Sam, "[Want some?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3442013)"

"You know this is a public street right?" Sam said frowning at him with disgust. That was all he needed tonight, first Dean showing up out of the blue and breaking into his and Jess's apartment and now Dean's _co-worker_ was going to attract the cops to them while they stood around in front of a trunk full of weapons. Goodbye Law School.

Cas shrugged. Dean started telling Sam about their father's disappearance. Cas didn't bother to listen. He knew the story. Dean had told him a couple hundred times before. He enjoyed his joint while they argued and tried to not think about his Dean or the Apocalypse or that stupid fucking **_note_**. Fuck Dean for doing that to him. He didn't get to just say that and— He took another drag on his joint. He was determined to enjoy it.

Dean finished up telling Sam what he knew and held the folder out, "Here. Just take a look for yourself."

"I'm not going with you Dean." Sam said. He spread his arms in a _here's my decision_ gesture. He wasn't getting dragged back into hunting just because Dad was on a bender and couldn't be bothered to check in.

Dean's shoulder's sunk a little, "Come on Sammy. I can't do this alone."

"Take your _co-worker_ with you." Sam said annoyed.

"He doesn't count." Dean shook his head. He glanced at Cas not sure what to do now. Did he tell Sam what Cas might be? Did he tell him about all that crazy shit that Cas said was gonna happen? He didn't think Sam would take it very well. Sam hadn't been in the game for a few years now. Dumping all that on him at once probably wouldn't be the best way to get Sam to come with him. He made a dismissive gesture at Cas, "He's a whole other problem."

"It's true. Lots of problems, right here." Cas pointed to himself. And one of those problems was named Dean. He sucked back on the joint.

"Look, I just want you to come with me okay?" Dean said defeated. He just wanted his brother there for back up. Someone he could rely on. Family.

Before Sam could answer Cas spoke up again, "They should _both_ come."

"What?" Sam and Dean said.

"Top two on the list Dean. Make sure Sam goes to the interview," Cas held up one finger for Sam's interview, then a second finger, "Save Jess."

It took a force of will for Sam to pull his eyes away from Cas. How did Cas know about his interview? Dean had said they had just gotten into town. And more importantly, why did Jess need to be saved? He looked to his brother, "Dean. What's he talking about? What list?"

Dean huffed out a sigh. Great, Cas had to go and blurt it all out, didn't he? He shrugged at Sam, "It's kind of a long story."

"Not really." Cas said nonchalant. He blew a trail of smoke towards Sam. Sam waved it away and wrinkled his nose. Cas grinned slyly at him.

"Yes it _is_." Dean said through his teeth. Cas was going to freak Sam right out of coming along. Shit. What if he just blurted out all that possessed by the Devil stuff? Okay, maybe Cas wasn't as alright as he had thought he was (even if he does have good taste in music).

Cas turned to Sam, ignoring Dean's dagger looks. "I'm from your horrible apocalyptic future. This is the weekend that you leave Jess and go to hunt with Dean, she dies, you don't go to the interview, and ten years from now we'll all be dead or close enough if you don't change things. Basically, come with us if you want to live."

"Terminator Cas? Really?" Dean looked mildly disgusted by the quote. It hit too close to home if Cas really was– oh, who was he kidding? There was _no way_ Cas had gotten that ring and that amulet unless what he said was _true_ because there was _no way_ he'd just toss his ring and amulet to some drunk pill-popping hippy for the hell of it. Fuck (seriously, FUCK!).

Cas ran his tongue over his teeth and shrugged. He thought it was a perfectly good reference. Besides, he didn't have time for a Sam and Dean freak out. He had an apocalypse to get back to. The faster they got this over with the faster he'd get home.

Jess chose then to stick her head out the door, "Sam? You alright?"

Cas glanced up. Now there was a good motivator, "If you leave her behind tonight, she'll die the same way your mother did."

" _Fuck, Cas_." Dean swore under his breath. He hunched his shoulders together. He whispered angrily at him trying to keep his voice down so that Jess wouldn't hear. " _You could have mentioned that earlier!"_

Sam had stared in shock for a minute but now– "What!?"

"Calm down Sam." Cas grinned. This puppy version of Sam was so easily upset. He had never known Sam when he was anything but a hunter. The Sam he knew, knew how to deal with potential tragedy: guns and knives.

"Calm down!?" Sam yelled. Who _the hell_ was this guy to just turn up with Dean and talk about Jess dying like it was no big deal?

"Sam?" Jess dashed down the steps to him. This whole thing with Sam's brother seemed shady, yelling in the street couldn't be good. She shoved her hand in her pocket and held on to her cell phone just in case she needed to phone the cops.

Dean grabbed Cas and dragged him around to the other side of the impala. He definitely took back that _alright_. Cas was anything but alright. He opened the car door and shoved Cas inside, "Sit while I sort this out. I knew your drugged up hippy ass was gonna be a problem. And don't—" He leaned into the car so Sam wouldn't see. He gave a nod towards Sam and mouthed the words _the Devil_ , "Not a word. Got it?"

"Got it." Cas said staring up at Dean. His heart thumped. Dean was so close. If he leaned in just a little bit more... He started to say more just as Dean closed the door in his face. He snorted in annoyance; resenting how easily he fell into the habit of taking orders from Dean even when it wasn't really Dean. He slouched in the passenger seat and listened to them argue without hearing the words. It was heated arguing but it wasn't the kind of cold life or death arguing he was used to. This was almost relaxing- or maybe that was the pot. He dug around under the seat for the only slightly less wonderful 151-proof Everclear, drank a third of it, dug around in his pockets for some...Vicodin? Sure, why not? And swallowed that down with another gulp of Everclear. He fell asleep as he listened to their voices. [He didn't dream, or at least he didn't remember it.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3442133)

He woke up when the car doors started being yanked open then slammed shut. He wiped the drool from his face and sat up. Dean was in the driver's seat and a glance over his shoulder told him that Dean had been successful. Sam and Jess were coming. No one looked happy about it. He had a pill for that.

"Here, it'll take the edge off." Cas offered a little orange bottle to Sam and Jess. They stared. He shook it a little in front of their faces. It rattled. They looked at him offended. He offered the booze instead. He got that look again. He shrugged, "Don't ever say I didn't try to share."

"Give it a rest Cas." Dean snapped.

Cas's face pulled into a sly smile. If Sam and Jess didn't want to take advantage of happiness in pill or liquid form he would. He poured a few more pills out and swallowed them with a sip of booze. He curled back up against the impala's door and went back to sleep. Hopefully he'd sleep through the hangover that was going to start coming on anytime now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've noticed I'm pulling an Ada Lovelace here, my footnotes are longer than my story. The Only Thing We Have Left is now almost twice as long as But Instead, We Become This. Hahaha!
> 
> References  
> Manta rays and bats: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1971 the book and 1998 the movie)  
> "Come with me if you want to live." Terminator II: Judgement Day (1991)


	7. Pit Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean leaned against the impala while he filled the tank. Sam was telling him about school and the interview next Monday, Cas and Jess had gone into the store to supply up with one of his credit cards.

Dean and leaned against the impala while he filled the tank. Sam was telling him about school and the interview next Monday (dear god, school was _still_ boring). Cas and Jess had gone into the store to supply up with one of his credit cards. Dean had had to put a stop to Cas paying for everything with fistfuls of cash. He had no idea how much the twitchy dude had in the duffle bag but it was a fuck ton and he didn't need everyone state wide knowing that they were just carrying that much cash around with them in a freakin' duffle bag. He gave Cas one of his [credit cards](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3499841) and told him not to over do it.

Dean watched Jess and Cas when they came out and headed over to the impala. How the hell was Cas still walking straight? The dude had been drinking non-stop since yesterday morning. And- more importantly- how the hell had Sam managed to snag someone like Jess? She made Dean think of way too many cheesy pickup lines because really, had she fallen from the sky? Because that ass was out of this world. ...on the topic of things that weren't from this world, Cas was staring at him. Again.

The drunk train wreck had bought himself a pair of huge mirrored aviators but they didn't hide the fact that he was staring holes into Dean. Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Dude? What the hell are you staring at me for?"

"You're kind of scrawny." Cas said pushing the sunglasses up into his hair. He was feeling better today than he had yesterday. Dean had either shot the Devil or he was dead. Either way it was over and he had several more bottles of booze (and a couple dozen different pills) to help forget about it. It was all very Winchester of him.

Sam laughed. Dean elbowed him for it. He glared at Cas. "Scrawny? _Me?_ You look like you'd get blown away in a light breeze."

"I've been near starvation for months." Cas said dryly, still looking Dean over. He had been rather preoccupied the last few days and hadn't noticed until now how loose Dean's jacket fit him in this time. It was baggy across the shoulders, which made it a little long in the arm. He smirked at Dean, "Don't pout, you fill out eventually."

"Are you saying future me gets fat?" Dean asked, a little worried now, because hey, no one wants to be told they're fat.

Sam rolled his eyes, "You're worried about getting _fat?_ "

"Hey, the apocalypse is no reason to let yourself go." Dean said. There was the homey sound of a familiar click as the tank filled. He put the pump away.

"Especially since your neighbours might try to eat you. You need to be able to run." Cas said without missing a beat.

"Thanks for the advice Cas." Dean said over his shoulder as he headed in to pay.

Cas watched Dean walk away and go into the store to pay. He stared at the door until Dean came out and watched him come back to the car. It had started out of habit but now he was doing it just to bother this Dean. It bothered his Dean too but it wasn't as much fun as harassing this Dean.

"Dude. _I mean it_. Quit staring at me all the time." Dean said. Cas had started doing the whole staring routine early that morning when Dean had taken over driving from Sam. Dean was already developing a second sense for knowing when Cas was staring.

"I don't stare _all_ the time." Cas said pushing the aviators up into his hair. He got into the impala and immediately turned to watch Dean get in the car.

"Put your seatbelt on." Dean snapped, fuck was Cas _ever_ going to stop staring?

"Make me." Cas grinned still staring.

Dean nearly growled when Cas didn't move. He reached across Cas and yanked the seatbelt down and buckled him in muttering to himself, "It's like driving with a child."

Cas pulled his sunglasses back on smirking. Yeah, today wasn't so bad. He could enjoy his buzz and harass this Dean while he figured out a way to get back to his Dean. He'd work something out.

The car started up and with it Sam started quizzing Cas again on everything he knew about Jess's death. All Cas knew was that a demon had been planted into Sam's life, not the one their father was hunting, but a different demon under its orders. This demon was the same one that would release the Croatoan virus on the world, so that was convenient. Maybe he could make home a little less apocalyptic by helping them kill the demon after Jess.

"So who is it?" Sam asked.

"Don't know." Cas said before taking a sip from his flask. Dean had said he couldn't drink right from the bottle anymore and that if he did he could get out and walk. Cas had conceded to the rule because one look at Dean's face and Cas was sure he meant it. That look hadn't changed in years, "Dean and Bobby killed it before I got there. You'll just have to stalk all your friends until you figure out who it is."

"So you're from the _future_ and you're an _angel_ and you don't even know who the demon is?" Sam sounded like someone had offered him a pile of garbage for dinner.

Cas took another sip from his flask, well more than a sip, he drained half the flask. Sam was right he was useless even here. He turned back to Sam and plastered a fake smile on, "Why are you so...acrimonious? We know you find her dead on Sunday night. We don't know when exactly she was killed so we've removed her from the situation."

"Can you please stop talking about me dying as if I'm not sitting right here?" Jess asked quietly. She hadn't said much since they had left the apartment and she still wasn't sure if she believed Sam when he said Dean wasn't a serial killer. At least Sam agreed that Cas was probably some kind of criminal. A delusional one at that since he claimed to be a mortal angel from the future.

"Alright." Cas grinned at her, but before he could repeat what he said with her request in mind Dean slapped him upside the head. He turned a hurt look on Dean, "Ow."

"Stop being an asshole." Dean said sternly not taking his eyes from the road. He had known Cas for just a couple of days but it was obvious what he was about to do. The scruffy hippy was more trouble than he was worth. He definitely took back thinking that Cas might actually be alright and his future self was an idiot for hanging around with him.

"Stop being churlish." Cas retorted in an airy voice. He looked around himself, noticing how on edge everyone in the car was– except for him. A thought struck through the alcohol and drug induced indifference. He felt very old suddenly. Not because he _was_ very old (oh and he was) but because he was the world weary bitter one who knew that the future would bring blood and pain and death. But Dean and Sam and Jess? They all had hope for the future. They had dreams and expectations. He sat back in his seat. What did he have for the future?

Not a hell of a lot.


	8. Forgiveness is divine, but never pay full price for late pizza.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were saved any more awkward moments full of emotions by a knock at the door and a shout of pizza!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Ninja Turtles. Such wisdom.
> 
> For those interested I generally post progress on this fanfic here: [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/), as well as what sort of research is going on in relation to this (though be warned there is also a lot of nonsense that goes on there too).

Dean had been half tempted to let Sam drive again but he didn't think he could spend another night sleeping in the car with three other people. They stopped for the night in a little town that looked a lot a like most little towns. Dean had paid for both rooms. Sam had gotten all grouchy and grabbed the key and barricaded himself in his room with Jess. Which meant he got to figure out dinner on his own and spend the night with Cas. Just freakin' great.

Having scanned the phonebook over it looked like dinner was going to be pizza again. Dean didn't want to go out (it had been a **_long_** couple of days) and he resoundingly did _not_ trust Cas to drive his car (who would?). He asked Cas if he had any preferences- he just got a sullen stare in response- then phoned in the order. He stretched out on his bed slowly becoming acutely aware that Cas was staring at him again. "Dude. Seriously, quite fucking doing that."

A long drawn out sigh escaped Cas. His initial mood swings about being abandoned in the past were evening out but it didn't mean it hurt less and staring at Dean was...calming. It had started out as a joke but now... He grabbed his jacket and pulled out a very particular bottle. He poured the contents out into his hand, picked out the six pills he needed, and poured the rest back in. He licked the remaining pills off his hand and swallowed them with a sip from his flask (which he was getting sick of refilling all the time). He flopped back on the bed to stop himself from staring.

"Let me guess, finally getting a hangover headache?" Dean asked. He had been expecting Cas to get more than a headache at this point; he had been waiting for Cas to start worshiping at the porcelain alter since they stopped.

"No." Cas laid there alone in the double bed. He thought he'd be used to that by now but... He sighed. But here he was alone still, not even someone from the Camp that he could pretend filled the space. "It's my own personal cocktail for depression."

"Depression?" Dean turned his head and looked over. He knew the scruffy hippy that had fallen out of his closet had some problems but he was surprised that he _actually_ had some problems.

A twinge of– of some god-awful emotion he didn't want to put a name to– ripped through Cas's core. Dean had sounded _concerned_. Genuinely concerned. He hadn't heard that kind of honest concern from Dean in.... Cas forced himself to stare up at the ceiling. "The Apocalypse is pretty [fucking depressing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3584561)."

Dean didn't know how to respond to that, from what Cas had told him in the last couple of days depressing sounded like a pretty damned accurate way to describe the future. He did a mental shrug. He had half an hour to kill before the pizza came he might as well get some stuff out of the way. "So I've been thinking over our agreement. You're going to have to write some stuff down for me before we send you home."

"Yeah." Cas said absently noting that there were water spots directly over his bed. Home. Right. Where Dean kept leaving him. Where Dean couldn't say how he felt until he was sending him away and there weren't any consequences.

"You think you're going to be able to find all the stuff for your DeLorean?" Dean asked. He wasn't too keen on having to deal with Cas long term, especially when he thought about those two pieces of paper (the thing in the car had definitely not happened).

"Eventually." Cas said though he didn't know what would happen when he did. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he tried it and it didn't connect and...and he was starting to wonder why? Why do it? Why go back to that? Because Dean was there? Dean was here too. He wasn't the same but it was still Dean. Wasn't it? No. He had to go back. He couldn't leave Dean alone; he had promised he would stay.

They fell silent for awhile before Dean started to fidget. Dean made sure he was looking anywhere but at the bed next to him before he brought the next subject up, "So....I ah...kind of get the drift that...umm....we- I mean future me and... _you_...have a- ah.... **thing** going on?"

An abrupt laugh escaped Cas, "Yeah, a **thing**. I guess you could call it that."

Dean turned to look despite his earlier efforts to look anywhere but there. The way Cas had said that was...kind of insulting. Sure there was no chance in hell he'd actually, you know, be into a guy (except according to Cas and his own future self he was) but that didn't mean he wouldn't be _good_ at it.

Cas glanced over to see Dean giving him an offended look. Dean looked away. Cas was just so very good at offending Dean. He sighed, "It's probably not what you think."

"So what is it then?" Dean asked. He didn't think he could be that wrong, plus future him had just out right said the dreaded three words. Seriously, future him had some explaining to do. Chick flick moments and dudes? Yeah, clearly the world was ending in the future.

"What _was_ it." Cas clarified. In all honesty, Cas didn't know what it was either. It had all just happened and some how he had muddled his way through that [very human thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3584630) until he had screwed it all up.

"Oh." Dean said. So future him had figured out they weren't gay after all. Well that was good he guessed— didn't explain number thirteen though. Good thing he was getting rid of the hippy before he could try number twelve because _that_ was not happening.

They were saved any more awkward moments full of _emotions_ by a knock at the door and a shout of _pizza!_

Dean rolled off the bed. The pizza guy had taken _forever_. Dean was pretty sure that had been longer than a half hour. It felt longer than a half hour. It was definitely longer than a half hour. He wasn't going to tip the deliver guy for late pizza. He looked over at Cas and put his hand out.

Cas sat up and shrugged at him, "What?"

Dean pointed over to the duffle bag by Cas's feet. He raised an eyebrow at him and stuck his hand out again.

"You want me to pay?" Cas asked incredulous. He wasn't the one who had ordered pizza. He didn't even want to eat.

Dean gave him a _right you're so hard done by_ look, that cash had to be stolen. "You going to tell me how hard earned your money is?"

"You going to tell me how limited your credit card is?" Cas retorted as he passed over the money.

Dean grabbed the money and headed for the door. He glared at the pizza deliver guy. He was definitely late. That conversation had gone on way too long. He tipped the delivery guy anyway (but he wasn't happy about it).

\---

Dean watched Cas pick at his pizza slice and refill his flask. Cas had been picking at that same slice of pizza all night. He tried to think if he had seen Cas really eat anything other than pills since he met the dude. His mind came up with nothing. He watched Cas pick a piece of ham off his pizza and eat it. The ham was chased with a sip from the flask. "Dude, not that I should be talking but, maybe you want to lay off the drinking a little?"

The flask was half way to Cas's lips again just to spite Dean but...he sighed and screwed the cap back on. Dean had given him the _you're not just hurting yourself_ look. That look had always done him in and apparently it was something Dean had always been good at doing.

"And maybe you should...ah...[ _eat_ something](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3584654)?" Dean suggested as he cleared his bed off, "You know, other than a bunch of pills and shit."

Cas glanced away.

"Seriously, dude. You're gonna pass out or something." Dean said pulling his socks off. He got into bed. He reached up and turned the bedside lamp off. He buried his face in his pillow to block out the light from the other lamp. A few moments later the other lamp clicked off. Dean fell asleep a few seconds later, it had been a very long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After talking with friends who...let's say get up to some interesting activities, I actually had it worked out which six pills Cas was taking then I thought it might be a bad idea to get into that since I have no idea who's reading this (please do not take strange and mysterious pill combinations like Cas). To make up for the vagueness here is a shortbread recipe:
> 
> 1 cup corn starch  
> 1 cup icing sugar  
> 3 cups flour  
> 1 brick of butter, soft (which if you're somewhere that doesn't do butter in bricks is 2 cups)
> 
> Mix dry. Blend in butter with hands. Form into one inch balls press with a fork. Bake at 325 F for about 8 minutes. Check often. They're done when the bottoms are golden to light brown.
> 
> References  
> The title is from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990).


	9. Hellishly intense introspection nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was he going to do? Why did it always come down to that? And why did he never know? Not knowing what to do was his speciality. And what did he do when he didn't know what to do? Ask Dean. Fuck. And people thought Dean and Sam were co-dependant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god, this chapter was hell to write, proof read, post, etc. Not because of the actual chapter, no, because I called it Hellishly intense introspection nightmares and thought, well it has to be intense. Intense apparently meant just over 31 400 words. So please click through to at least _some_ of the links embedded in the chapter because this 1 300 word chapter spawned 31 400 words of memories for Cas.
> 
> Be wary of violence under these links  
> "It was just too dangerous" (I feel like this one in particular might be an issue for some people)  
> "fixing Dean's mistakes"  
> "cleaning up Dean's messes."
> 
> Be wary of sex and violence under this link  
> "had always come third to Dean" (This is not sex from a good place so be _very_ wary)
> 
> Be wary of sex under these links (or if you're looking for it, this is where the from a good place smut is at)  
> "Memories that he had sworn to himself he'd hate"  
> "Dean's breath hitched"
> 
> For those interested I generally post progress on this fanfic here: [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/), as well as what sort of research is going on in relation to this (though be warned there is also a lot of nonsense that goes on there too).

Cas sat in the dark and stared at the wall. He [listened to Dean breathe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725264) as he contemplated how much he had been through at the hands of Dean Winchester these past years. How he [had always come third to Dean](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725351) when he had put Dean first. He really _really_ wanted to hate that man but he couldn't (oh, but how he had tried) because even after everything that had happened he still—

He let out a quiet huff of laughter in the dark. He grabbed his flask. He sat there with his hand on the cap for awhile. He let out a long breath and put it down. Dean had made the face and asked him not to. Dean was concerned for him, even if he was showing it [in his usual crass way](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725483).

He sighed, even _this_ Dean thought he should stop drinking and eat more. He fidgeted restlessly in bed. His leg brushed against [the flask](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725513). He glared at it. He snatched the flask back up and furiously unscrewed the cap. He took a spiteful swig then jammed the cap back on. Dean was [always prying into his habits](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725552); as if it concerned him anymore. He contemplated throwing the flask at the Dean in the bed beside him but...it wasn't _his_ Dean. It wouldn't be as satisfying. He threw the flask at the duffle bag- it was as close to his Dean he could get- and resolutely went back to staring at the wall.

[Dean murmured something in his sleep](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725603). The noise made Cas's heart race and then plummet. He glared over at the other bed trying to be angry again. He tried to summon up [past arguments](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725627), anything [to hate Dean](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725654). It didn't work. It never worked. He took in a deep breath and let it out slow. When had things gotten so bad between them? He laughed quietly to himself, [how had _anything_ happened between them](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725690)? How on earth had he allowed himself to get into this situation in the first place? [Dean snuffled in his sleep](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725744). Cas glanced over again. Well, that at least answered that last question. How had he gotten into this? Dean. And more importantly, why did he keep doing it? Dean.

[Fuck Dean](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725846).

He got off the bed and stripped down- his movements jerking with anger- then slid in under the covers. He bunched the blankets up around his face and stared up at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him. The blankets around his face didn't smell like anything. Not spilt booze. Not sweat. Not sex. It made it all the more poignant how far away from home he was. He grabbed a pillow and smashed it over his head trying to drown out the sound of Dean breathing. Having Dean so close and so [vulnerable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725942) brought back too many memories. [Memories that he had sworn to himself he'd hate](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725969) but he had yet to learn how. He pressed the pillow harder against his head.

"Why couldn't you have just let me come with you?" Cas muttered into the pillow over his face. "Then I wouldn't be here trying to figure out what to do next. What am I supposed to do?"

Well that did it. Great, just great. He had thought he might sleep tonight but no. No he had to go and open his mouth and [ask _that_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3752929). That single question that always threatened to eat him alive. What was he going to do? Why did it always come down to that? And why did he never know? Not knowing what to do was his speciality. And what did he do when he didn't know what to do? Ask Dean. Fuck. And people thought Dean and Sam were co-dependant.

He groaned. He flung the pillow off his face. It was useless. He wasn't going to sleep tonight. He hadn't slept during the night since he got here. He had only been catching a few hours of [sleep in the impala (where it was safe)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753055). He rarely if ever slept outside of his cabin. [It was just too dangerous](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753131). Even if he was out on an extended mission he'd down amphetamines by the handful long before he'd actually do something as stupid and dangerous as _sleep_.

A car pulled up in the parking lot, momentarily filling the room with light. It was [abnormally bright](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753205) in the room for the middle of the night, even without the car headlights. Well no, it wasn't. The brightness now was normal. A world plunged into darkness due to a demonic virus was abnormal. A demonic virus Dean wanted him to stop. How the _fuck_ was he supposed to _do_ **that**? It was impossible. He couldn't do it. He had already tried and failed. It couldn't be done. [It was fate](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753243). That only left one reasonable option, go back to Dean. He had to go back....right? _Fuck_. He mashed the pillow over his face again and swore. What was he supposed to **do**? He just needed someone to tell him what to do. He whispered quietly to himself in the dark, "Dean. You are such an asshole. [How long did you have this planned](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753323)? And why the fuck did you think _I'd_ be able to do anything about it?"

This was all Dean's fault. He was always [fixing Dean's mistakes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753365). Always [cleaning up Dean's messes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753409). Always ready to follow Dean [even when he _knew_ it was a bad idea](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753481). ...so maybe this was his fault after all. Maybe if he had stopped Dean from [obsessing about the Colt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753545) and stopped him from— No. It was definitely Dean's fault.

He rolled over abruptly; half off the bed. His arm shot out from under the covers and reached down to the floor. His hand hit his jacket. He dug through the pockets until he found that stupid fucking list and that even worse note. He crumpled them both and squeezed the little ball of paper in his hand until it hurt. [Dean's breath hitched](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3753585) in his sleep. Cas scowled over at him. [It might not be _his_ Dean](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3754015) but it was still Dean. He threw the little ball of paper at him in a fit of rage. He heard it bounce off Dean and hit the floor. Dean didn't wake up. Cas flopped back down on the bed and shoved the pillow over his face again. He'd get some sleep tonight if Dean would just stop _breathing_ all the time. It was yet another thing that was Dean's fault.

Yes, it was _definitely_ Dean's fault. He pulled people in with kindness and did his family is loyal act and then used up everyone around him and threw them away when he was done. He yanked the pillow off his face again and glared up at the ceiling trying to believe any of that.

....everything would have been so much simpler if Dean hadn't sent that list with him.

"Me debo ir o quedarme? Esta indecisión me molesta." The words left his throat in a low grumble, "Pero tienes que decir."

He laughed bitterly at himself. It always came down to that didn't it? [_Tell me Dean_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3754073). Dear god, he was always...[ _such an **angel** _](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3754123)when it came down to it. Dean was right. He had [never quite gotten a grasp on what it meant to be human](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3754195). Humans and their free will, always making [impossible decisions](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3754237) as if it were the simplest thing anyone could do.

How did humans do it all the time? All he wanted was someone to tell him what to do next. Instead, Dean had abandoned him here. Dean wanted him to try to stop the _Apocalypse_ before it got going. Dean had set the bar impossibly high. Dean had sent him here, had told him to–

And there it was; [Dean had told him what to do](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3754333).

He was staying (Si me quedo, es doble!)

 Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References  
> The title is from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1971 the book and 1998 the movie)
> 
> The seemingly random lines of Spanish are from Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash. There seems to be some disagreement about what the actual Spanish lyrics are but I decided on these ones, if some one knows the "official" lyrics I'd be glad to change them (everyone seems to agree on the meaning of them though).
> 
> The lines (basically) translate as:  
> Me debo ir o quedarme? - Should I stay or should I go?/Should I go or stay?  
> Esta indecisión me molesta. - This indecision bothers me/Indecision bothers me.  
> Pero tienes que decir. - You have to tell me/you have to say.  
> Si me quedo, es doble!- If I stay, it will be double/If I stay, it's double!


	10. Early rising is a vice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, he wanted to stop the apocalypse as much as the next guy but did they really need a hippy freak tagging along to do that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you say “mild homophobia” and have it sound right? Some days I feel like it’s saying just a little bit pregnant and other days I’m like, well, I guess that’s less offensive? I dunno. 
> 
> Anyway, there’s some internalized homophobia, though nothing ragingly offensive. Mostly it's just Dean trying to reassure himself he isn't gay and being uncomfortable with the implications of what Cas told him, and the note and list.
> 
> ...and now I’m wondering if there’s a different word for "fear of things being the same" separate from homophobia.

Cas stared at the ceiling as the room slowly brightened with the dawn. He had managed two hours of shallow sleep (not bad). He counted the water stains on the ceiling and missed the ceiling of his cabin; [even if it did leak.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3842560)

He sat up once the sun had finished breaking the horizon. He shuffled up the bed to lean back against the headboard. It would still be awhile before Dean woke up. He let his head fall back with a thump. He rolled his head to the side to watch Dean sleep for a few minutes. He breathed deeply and turned away. He stared at the far wall. Fuck...he was going to do it all over again. He was going to relive his worst nightmares because he couldn't do anything right. He was going to try and fail and the world would burn up with a fever called Croatoan and he would watch Dean sink into the pits of Hell on Earth all over again and he was going to go down with him. Fuck, he was useless. He thumped his head off the headboard again before he rolled it back towards Dean and watched him sleep.

"Dude. It's even creepier when you stare at me while I'm sleeping." Dean said having been woken up by that second thump. He rolled over and sat up. There was no way he was going back to sleep with Creepy McCreeperson _staring_ at him. Especially since Creepy McCreeperson had removed all doubt about what future him meant in those notes (because the thing in the car hadn't happened).

"Good thing you're not sleeping." Cas retorted with a sarcastic smile.

Dean shook his head and got out of bed. He grabbed his toiletry kit. He turned around intent on telling Cas off for still staring at him but he stopped dead. He had seen Cas without a shirt before (oh god why?) on that first day Cas had barrelled out of a closet and into his life. Cas had calmly gotten dressed at gun point in front of him. Dean hadn't really been _looking_ at him then (why would he? He _so_ wasn't into that), so he hadn't noticed what Cas was hiding under all those layers. Turned out the dude had some deadly looking scars under there. Three scars clustered on his chest was what had him staring. He had seen that kind of scar before. Hell, he had one. Only his was on his arm, not on his fucking chest. Three shots like that? Should be _lethal_. Jesus christ, the dude wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't human. That or he was damned lucky.

"What?" Cas asked as Dean stared at him for a change.

"How...?" Dean pointed to Cas's chest and then brought his hand back to his own chest to touch where they'd be; right over his heart. How the hell did someone walk away from that?

Cas glanced down at his chest. He had been lucky that had happened when he could still heal himself. He looked up at Dean. He made his hand into the shape of a gun and pointed it at him, "[Pow...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3842716) How do you think it happened?"

"You weren't lying about the not all that human part." Dean said looking at other scars. There were a couple he thought might be knife wounds because of how straight they were, a bunch of places that had obviously been stitched up, and a whole lot of bite marks up and down his arms.

"Nope." Cas said stretching his legs out under the blanket. "Practically, but not quite."

Dean was about to ask who had tried to take a chunk out of his arms (repeatedly) when Cas decided to get up and flash him. "Dude! What the hell!?"

"What?" Cas asked.

Dean spun around. He felt his face start to burn red. "I don't know, maybe- keep your damn clothes on!"

Cas snickered at him. It hadn't occurred to him that nakedness might upset Dean. By the time he had genuinely understood why humans got upset about clothes he had slept with half the camp- Dean included- so it had never really been an issue if someone walked in on him naked. He started pulling his clothes on for the sake of this Dean's modesty, chuckling all the while.

"Son of a bitch, have you been getting all naked right beside me every night?" Dean asked uncomfortable and vaguely worried. He heard a zipper being done up. He turned slowly, ready to spin back around at even a hint of naked Cas. Cas was thankfully dressed, shoving that huge ass dagger into the back of his pants, when he turned around. "Because if you have, that is on the list of shit you need to quit doing while you're here."

"I've been sleeping on the road." Cas said as he went around to the other side of the bed and looked for the balled up note and list. He scooped the ball off the floor and un-crumpled the two sheets of paper. "Can't exactly sleep naked in the car without you noticing, now can I?"

Despite the whole Cas naked thing, Dean found himself doing a quick mental tally. If Cas hadn't slept anywhere but in the car...holy crap. He couldn't even pull something like that off. He glanced over at Cas's jacket and wondered what the hell the dude had been taking to be awake for most of the week and still capable of coherent conversation.

"I don't need to sleep as much as your average human does." Cas said seeing the look on Dean's face. He breezed past Dean and into the bathroom. So far the one good thing about pre-apocalypse living was the water pressure.

It took Dean a minute to realize that Cas had just hijacked the bathroom. Again. Dean threw his head back, "Son of a bitch."

\---

Being woken up at the butt crack of dawn, getting flashed by Cas, and then having to wait 45 minutes for Cas to do whatever the hell it was he did in the shower had not put Dean in a good mood. No, Dean was far from being in a good mood. Sitting in the diner across from the motel watching Cas drink two pots of coffee on his own was not helping. Dean watched mildly disgusted as Cas drained his mug again, "Dude. Slow down on the coffee. That is gonna go straight through you and I am _not_ stopping ever ten minutes because you thought it'd be a good idea to replace booze with caffeine."

"I'll be fine." Cas said pointedly [ignoring Dean's nagging](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3842971); some things never changed. He poured himself another mug. It hadn't taken much to convince the waitress to just leave the entire pot behind and soon after to bring another one. He looked down into his coffee mug and watched his reflection in the dark liquid, "It's funny, you'd think coffee would have been one of the first things to go, but everyone was more concerned with food and water when it started. By the time anyone thought about something like coffee pretty much everyone was dead, or you know, they were gnawing on the survivors."

"Thank you Cas, for that uplifting moment." Dean said putting a hand to his forehead. He wiped the hand over his face. What was he going to do with this clown? He really hoped this spell Cas had talked about worked because he so did not want to put up with this guy for longer than he had to (taste in music aside). The waitress came by with his breakfast and Cas's piece of toast, Cas didn't touch it. Dean was pretty sure all Cas had eaten in two days was a couple of pieces of ham off his pizza last night. The dude needed to eat something before he keeled over without telling him about the stuff on the list (just numbers one through eight thank you very much).

"Before you start bugging me about it, I don't need to eat as much." Cas said picking up his piece of toast. He glanced at the little basket of spreads beside him. They were far from novel. Diner kitchens had been rife with the little packets of [jam and peanut butter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3843043) even during the Apocalypse.

"Who said I was going to bug you about it?" Dean said stabbing at his eggs. Okay, so maybe he _was_ going to bug him about it, but he really didn't want to end up selling his soul because this asshole had dropped dead from a combination of not eating and overdoing it with every addiction but nicotine.

"That look on your face." Cas said picking out a packet of peanut butter and three packets of strawberry jam.

Dean looked upwards trying to figure out what he had done to deserve having this hippy weirdo come crashing out of his motel room closet.

"And I know that look too." Cas said spreading the peanut butter across his toast. Alright, so maybe he wasn't going to ignore Dean's whining today, "Woe is me. I'm so hard done by. I'm going to go sulk now."

Dean gave him a dirty look and went back to his breakfast. Maybe if he didn't talk Cas would just stay quiet and let him eat in peace.

"Just like that." Cas said scooping out the contents of all three packets of jam onto the toast. He poured himself more coffee, a glance across the table had him filling up Dean's mug too. "And maybe if the stars are right you'll mope and drink tonight."

Nope. No such luck. Cas was gonna wake him up at ass’o’clock, stare at him like a creeper, flash him, hog the shower, _and_ be a mouthy prick. Dean dug around in his pockets for a pen. He found one in his jacket. He set it down on the napkin beside him. He slid it over to Cas, "Spell. What do you need for it?"

"Oh, I'm staying." Cas said casually before taking a bite of his jam with a bit of toast.

Dean dropped his fork into his eggs, "What?"

"You sent me back here to fix things." Cas said between bites of toast. He stopped to drain his mug of coffee. He started pouring another, "I'm going to. Well, I'm going to try."

"Ah..." Dean said at a loss for...pretty much everything.

"Though, I'll warn you now–" Cas grabbed his mug and took a long sip, "I don't have a very good track record when it comes to stopping the Apocalypse."

"You're....you're kidding right?" Dean asked holding onto a last shred of hope.

"Nope." Cas set his mug down and went back to his toast. Jam rolled off the peanut butter covered top and down his fingers. He bent his head to lick it off. He stopped mid lick when he saw Dean's face, "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Dean leaned back in his chair and ran his hands into his hair with a long overdrawn groan. Did the scruffy drug abusing alcoholic time traveling hippy, who was licking jam off himself like he was in a bad prono, look like he was kidding? Dean wiped his hands down his face, "Why? What happened to the whole desperate to go home thing? I was good with desperate to go home."

Cas took a bite of toast and shrugged, "I changed my mind."

Dean stared for a full minute. "...dude, you've been an alcoholic drugged up mess about getting back to your own time since you got here and now you're just– oh, I changed my mind?"

"Yeah." Cas said taking an extra large bite of toast, trying to look preoccupied. Explaining himself to what basically amounted to a complete stranger- even if they did look and talk like Dean- in the middle of a small town diner? No thanks. He'd rather dislocate a couple of fingers.

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, "...you think I- future me is dead. Don't you?"

Cas shoved the last of his toast into his mouth and didn't answer. It was very very likely that his Dean was in fact dead but he wasn't about to open up that can of worms just yet. He'd have himself a nice complete breakdown later, right now he was going to concentrate on what Dean had told him to do.

"Great. That's- that's great Cas." Dean said watching Cas try to drink coffee through a mouth jammed full of toast. So future him was an idiot, _into **guys**_ , and dead (what a great future to look forward to) and his compensation prize was... _Cas_. That's really how he wanted to start his day. "Next you're gonna tell me the impala was trashed."

Cas's eyes slid across the table away from Dean. He hadn't told him about the car.

"Aw, come on!" Dean threw his hands up in angry disbelief. He didn't need to know Cas to know what those shifty eyes meant.

Cas shrugged. It was Dean's own fault the impala was a wreck. He grabbed all the packets of jam and peanut butter out of the basket beside him and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. He turned to Dean and pointed at his abandoned plate, "You done?"

Dean shoved away from the table in answer. He marched over to the counter to pay up, debated on making Cas pay for his piece of toast and lake of coffee, then decided it’d be faster to just pay for everything. It was too early to deal with Cas in public places, the less of that he had to do the better.

Cas slid up beside Dean. The moment the waitress turned around to look for the receipts his hand shot out to the bowl of free mints on the counter. He grabbed a handful. They joined the peanut butter and jam packets in his pocket.

Dean watched Cas out of the corner of his eye. The dude wouldn’t eat anything for days and now he was stuffing his pockets full of jam, peanut butter, and mints?

Cas gave him a flirtatious wink when he noticed Dean watching him grab a second handful of mints.

Dean scowled. It was just in time for the waitress to turn back around and get the full brunt of the scowl. The waitress’s nose scrunched up like she had gotten a whiff of rotting garbage. Dean sighed, so much for flirting with the hot waitress.

They headed back across the street to the hotel, Cas crunching away on a mint as he followed a half step behind Dean. Cas popped another mint out of the plastic wrapper and into his mouth, "When we finish up with this ridiculous wild goose chase for your father-" crack, crunch crunch, "-we need to find somewhere to demon proof and stow Sam and Jess away-" crunch, crack! crunch,"-while we figure out who's out to burn up Jess."

Dean turned and gave him a glare for suggesting that looking for Dad was a goose chase. All he got back in response was a sarcastic grin and another crunch of mint. Dean shook his head and tried to ignore him. The whole day had just gotten off to a bad start, once he got behind the wheel things would start looking up. Yeah, he could forgive pretty much anyone for being creepy and weird and a mouthy prick once he got on the road...and maybe it wasn't _so_ bad that Cas was staying. It'd be easier to work out the stuff on the list, plus there would be someone else around to tell Sam his music was shit. Yeah, Cas staying was alright, he guessed, if it meant Sam would be safe and avoiding the apocalypse.

"They're probably going to want to continue going to school." Cas mused aloud. It would make things more difficult but it was part of Dean's plan wasn't it? Dean wanted Sam to stay at school, not go out and be a hunter. Why else would Sam need to go to his interview? And he couldn't see Sam supporting the idea of sequestering Jess. Which meant they'd have to figure out how to keep demons away from Jess while she lived the life of a civilian. He was going to fail at this but at least he could tell Dean he tried, "You know, you really made things harder for me than they had to be."

"Huh?" Dean said unlocking the door to their room. He tossed the keys on the table.

"Well we could have just gone into hiding with Sam and Jess, it would have been significantly easier, but no, you want Sam to have a life of his own." Cas said heading over to his bed. He shoved his hand under the pillows, searching for his flask. His fingers hit the cool metal. He grabbed it up and quickly gulped down a couple of shots worth. He screwed the cap back on and deposited the flask in one of the interior pockets of his jacket. He looked over to see Dean staring at him like he was a particularly unpleasant bug, "What?"

"Dude, it's not even nine yet." Dean said shaking his head. Sure he might partake on occasion (very frequent occasion) but at least he didn't start drinking before noon (okay, eleven), "What are the neighbours going to think?"

Cas shrugged, "I don't know what gave you the impression that I cared."

Touché. Dean rolled his eyes a little anyway and headed for the bathroom before Cas got in there and hogged it again, "Right, well your impressive liver function aside, Sam and Jess will be up soon, whether they wanna be up or not, so start packing. We're still going on that wild goose chase."

"Alrighty." Cas said as Dean disappeared into the bathroom. This was surprisingly easier than he thought it would be– being around this Dean (stopping the Apocalypse was going to be impossibly hard) and knowing he wasn't going back to his Dean, at least not anytime soon (see you in ten years Dean). He would probably still fail at stopping the Apocalypse but he could do _this_ ; [packing had always been his job](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3843106), well except for that last year.

Dean came out of the bathroom and froze. Cas was casually folding Dean’s clothes and shoving them into Dean’s duffle bag. Cas was packing up _his_ stuff. Cas was packing up his stuff like there was nothing weird about a sketchy drug addict touching someone else’s underwear. Cas was packing up his stuff as if he had done it a thousand times before...because he probably had...because...future him and Cas... A shiver went through Dean. If Cas was staying...and that list...holy shit. This was so not cool.

\---

Sam slipped out of the room and closed the door. He turned around to find Dean loitering nearby looking like someone had keyed the impala. "Car okay?"

"What? What happened to my baby?" Dean snapped his head over to inspect his baby. Cas had him paranoid with all his shifty eyed looks when it came to the impala.

"Dude. Relax." Sam said shaking his head a little. Dean looked like he was ready to knife the next person who got close to the car. "You just looked a little....wound up."

Wound up? He was more than just a little wound up. He was…he didn’t know what he was but it was all Cas’s fault. Cas had been... _okay_ , for the most part (minus the thing in the car that didn’t happen and this morning that also didn’t happen), but he had only been okay because he was definitely _leaving_ and with him all the weird... _gay stuff_ at the end of that list. Cas was so _not_ okay if he was staying. Dean let out a groan, “Cas changed his mind.”

Sam stared for a moment, because that really didn’t explain anything at all, “Huh?”

“He changed his mind. He’s staying. Here. Now.” Dean said waving a hand at the here and now, “And I think he thinks we’re just going to let him tag along.”

“What?” Sam was still trying to process the information. From the way Cas had been talking in the car it didn’t sound like anything would ever convince him to stay, but if he was staying? And what he said was true? Well they had just lucked out, hadn’t they? They had an expert on the apocalypse now.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Was kind of hoping we could get rid of him earlier. The dude knows his music and all but he keeps _staring_ at me...like I’m a slab of meat." Dean said rubbing at the back of his neck like something slimy was stuck to it. Sure, he wanted to stop the apocalypse as much as the next guy but did they really need a hippy freak tagging along to do that? A hippy freak that a future him had shacked up with and gave the go ahead to try and shack up with him? No thanks. Dean fidgeted as his stomach rolled in disgust just thinking about it. Future him might be a freakin’ lunatic and into dicks but he did _not_ swing that way, “Think we could just…beat the information out of him? And put him on a bus to, I dunno, Alaska?”

"No. Dean, this is _good_. If he's really what and who he says he is and the things on the list are really going to happen, if they're true–" Sam leaned back when Dean shot him a death glare. Sam’s eyes went wide. If Dean looked like he wanted to stab someone before he looked ready to flay the next person that walked by, "Whoa."

Cas came out the door of the neighbouring motel room. He glanced at the impala and then to Sam and Dean. He headed over to join them, joint hanging from his lips, extra large duffle bag over one shoulder.

Dean hunched his shoulders defensively. He’d had enough Cas this morning to last him a life time. He slunk away to the car before Cas could do anything... _gay_.

Cas looked between Sam and Dean. He shot a questioning look at Sam and nodded towards Dean, "Backtalk about your father?"

That _would_ normally be the kind of thing that would make Dean act that way- and it was kind of weird and unsettling having Cas casually comment on that aspect of their personal lives as if he had always known them- but that was obviously not Dean's problem today. Sam glanced over at Dean. He watched his brother thoughtfully for a minute. He gave Cas a sideways look. Sam had read the notes in the car. He had just ignored the bits that implied that something had been going on with a future Dean and Cas and it looked like Dean had been too, right up until this morning. Something had obviously spooked him in the last eight hours, "No...I think he's a little...umm...wigged out over the list. You know, the last two."

“Oh.” Cas took a drag on his joint as he looked over at Dean. He hadn’t put much thought into the twelfth item on the list since he had fully intended on going home up until last night- he had thought over the last item on the list far longer than he wanted to admit- but now that he was staying...well...it could be... _interesting_. Cas let the smoke tumble from his mouth in a little puff, then sucked it back in. He held it for a moment and turned to Sam before letting it out, "Trust me, I was just as surprised as he was about that."

"So you weren't...?" Sam asked curious. If he ever met someone that had slept with more women than Dean he’d honestly be impressed. That a future version of Dean apparently shacked up with the guy standing in front of him was bizarre. He wouldn't have believed it if it weren't for the fact that Cas had a future Dean's ring and amulet in his breast pocket. Dean wouldn't give those away to just anyone.

"Oh, we _were_." Cas said. They had hated each other too, well as much as they could hate each other. He took another drag. He let this one out in a waterfall, "And then we weren't. Now I'm here. It's all very Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In some ways I feel like Dean’s sudden flip-flop on Cas is out of nowhere and in other ways I think it’s rather in character. Early seasons Dean was always kind of defensive about being called or having it implied that he might be gay. Dealing with a time travelling dude that future him might have a thing for? I think he’d be okay with that as long as he was sure he’d be sending him _very far away_ **never to be seen again.** But dealing with a time travelling dude that _isn’t_ going very far away and that future him might have a thing for, (who implicitly gave the go ahead to try to shack up with the younger version of himself)? I don’t think he’d take that very well.
> 
> (Actually all things considered, I think most people would be a little put off by someone who fell out of their closet and was apparently their future self’s lover.)
> 
> References  
> The title is a quote from Robert Heinlein but the book which it is from escapes me at the moment.


	11. Centennial Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My boyfriend's brother turns up with some sketchy drifter who tells me I'm going to die. Then I willingly jump in the car with them, because apparently I'm insane."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lines are ripped right from the pilot.
> 
> ***Warning for copious drug consumption***  
> Word of the wise, don't take 200mg of Valium.
> 
> I highly recommend clicking through the link in this chapter "[He opened the glove box](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3880225)". It kind of explains things.
> 
> For those interested I generally post progress on this fanfic here: [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/), as well as what sort of research is going on in relation to this (though be warned there is also a lot of nonsense that goes on there too).

"Alright. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue." Sam said finishing up his call. "So that's something, I guess."

"I told you. Your father is fine at the moment." Cas said through a mouthful of chips. He hadn't had chips in...had it been a year? He wiped his hand off on his jeans to fidget with his sunglasses then went right back to stuffing his face full of grease and salt.

"Well don't take this the wrong way, but we don't trust you one hundred percent yet." Sam said from the back seat. There was no reason not to be careful and about a million reasons _to_ be careful while hunting.

"Or you know, _do_ take it the wrong way." Dean said smirking, though he resolutely kept his eyes on the road and not his hippy passenger.

Cas turned a wicked grin on Dean, "Dean, there's no wrong way to _take it_. Trust me."

Dean wrinkled his nose, there were definitely wrong ways to take it. The hippy freak had been making comments like that all day. No wonder future him got rid of him. He was a pain in the ass....thank god he hadn't said that out loud. Cas would have had a field day with that.

Cas laughed at the face Dean made and grabbed another handful of chips. Dean had had a bug up his ass about the list all day. As to why it bothered Dean now he didn't know but if Dean was going to squirm every time he glanced at him (okay, stared for unreasonable amounts of time) well he couldn't very well waste the opportunity for revenge, even if it was the wrong Dean.

Dean tried not to look like he was waiting to cringe every time Cas opened his mouth as he barreled the car down the road and around a bend before coming to a bridge. The local cops were out. Dean slowed down to take a look. Closed bridge? Abandoned car? It looked like their kind of thing. He stopped the car. He reached over to the glove box and opened it up. Cas snickered as he leaned over him. He elbowed him in the leg, accidentally of course, as he pulled out his cigar box full of fake IDs. He dug through it debating on federal marshal or FBI. He went with federal marshal. He twisted around to look at Sam, "Come on, it'll be just like old times."

"No. I'm out. I told you Dean. Two years ago." Sam said from the back. He snaked an arm around Jess for support, "And I still mean it. I'm just coming to help find Dad and keep Jess safe."

"I'll go." Cas offered wiping the grease from the chips off his hand and onto his jeans.

Dean glanced over at Cas and arched an eyebrow at him. All other issues aside (and boy were there a lot), there was no way he was taking Cas out to talk to the cops; the dude was still wearing the same ripped up jeans and ratty shirt he had shown up in, and he was pretty sure that was blood on Cas's jacket, "No way. You look like you wandered off the set of Escape from New York."

"Does that make me Snake?" Cas licked the salt of his lips and grinned.

"Yeah right." Dean scoffed. If anyone was Snake it was totally him. He turned back to Sam, "Come on. I need back up."

Sam tried to stare his brother down but in the end he sighed and started undoing his seatbelt. Dean was right, Cas couldn't go out there dressed like that. He'd help Dean on this but he wasn't doing any hunting. He turned to Jess, "This won't take long."

" _What_ exactly won't take long?" Jess asked. Sam had been keeping her in the dark as to what they were doing exactly to find their father. She had just gotten a lot of vague non-answers about asking some questions and some truly horrifying ones about ghosts and monsters. In short, worst road trip ever.

Dean grinned and held up the fake badge, "We're just going to ask a couple of questions."

"Oh. Great." Jess said seeing the badge and getting a non-answer again. She _highly_ doubted Dean was a real... _anything_ , especially considering the fishy answers she had gotten from Sam about how his brother and father did the whole hunting gig. That was assuming that everything Sam said was _true_. What if Sam was breaking under the stress of his final year of school? ....but that didn't explain Dean and Cas. 

"It'll be fine....we kind of used to do this sort of thing a lot." Sam admitted sheepishly. Some days the irony of his past life and his future career choices really struck home.

"Used to? Dude I never stopped." Dean said flipping the badge closed.

Jess just stared. She had willingly gotten into the car with these people? She was starting to have seconds thoughts on the whole might be killed by mythical creatures now that she was being confronted with the very likely to be arrested for impersonating law enforcement.

Sam leaned in and kissed Jess trying to reassure her, "It'll only take a couple of minutes. I swear."

Dean grinned at Jess's incredulous look then turned to scowl at Cas. He pointed a finger at him, "Don't do anything to my car. I still don't believe it wasn't you that trashed it."

Cas pushed his aviators up just so he could roll his eyes. As if he'd hurt the impala. He watched Dean get out of the car and head over to the police with Sam. He undid his seatbelt and got comfortable. He heard Jess shift in the backseat. He turned around, "Having fun yet?"

"Well let's see, my boyfriend's brother turns up in the middle of the night with some sketchy drifter who tells me I'm going to die." Jess said caustically, "Then I willingly jump in the car with them, because apparently I'm insane, so that Sam and his brother can impersonate the police."

"Federal marshals actually." Cas corrected looking into his bag of chips. There were only the crumbs at the bottom left. He brought the bag up to his mouth and tilted it up. He poured what he could into his mouth than proceeded to tear the bag open and scoop up any crumbs he had missed.

"Oh, my mistake, _federal marshals_ , because that's _so_ much better." Jess said sarcastically. She shook her head at the absurdity of the last couple of days. She wanted to laugh. She wasn't sure what would be better: Sam was crazy and _thought_ there were monsters everywhere or Sam wasn't crazy and there _were_ monsters everywhere. She loved Sam, she really did, but...

Cas laughed, "I'm beginning to see a trend in the women Sam went around with."

Jess eyed him with suspicion, "Women?"

"Not your Sam." Cas amended. He turned, meaning to cast a quick glance at Dean just to check up on him, but his gaze stayed locked on him. There was Dean talking and gesturing to the police as if— his chest felt frozen— as if the Apocalypse had never happened...because it hadn't yet. He watched Dean circle around the crime scene _just_ a crime scene, not a car they were scavenging for parts. His Dean hadn't been so at ease in years, not even with his most trusted lieutenants, and here was this Dean talking to complete strangers without a care in the world checking out _a crime scene_. All those early days when he had been an Angel of the Lord watching over the Winchesters came back to him and hit full force. He pulled his sunglasses back down and hunkered into his seat. He didn't like what he was seeing. The stark contrast between his Dean and this Dean was too much one today. He pulled out his flask and gulped half of it down. He was interrupted from his thoughts by Jess.

"...did I really die?" Jess asked quietly. She still wasn't sure she was onboard with the time travel story but possibly dying was starting to eat at her more than she'd like to admit. Even if monsters and ghosts and demons weren't real, Sam, Dean, and Cas all seemed to think _someone_ might really be after her.

"Yes. Horrifically." Cas said not in any mood now to even attempt to sugar coat it (not that he had been before). He looked back over to the bridge just in time to see Dean slap Sam up the side of the head. He watched Dean and Sam bicker. Dean and Sam were bickering over a case together. Dean wasn't the Fearless Leader and Sam wasn't the Devil. _They were just bickering over **a case**._ He took another gulp from his flask. He had thought he was doing better with being here and now but evidently he was lying to himself (so the usual).

Before Jess could say anything about Cas's blunt description of her death Sam and Dean came back.

Sam slid into the car. He took one look at the disturbed expression on Jess's face then glared at Cas, "What'd you say now?"

Cas shrugged at him while taking another sip from his flask. It wasn't anything he hadn't already said. Jess was overreacting.

Sam looked to Jess for an answer. She shook her head. Sam looped an arm around her. If Cas was staying now they were definitely going to have to have a talk with him about appropriate conversation topics...and not smoking up in public places.

Dean got in and– there Cas went again staring at him. Jesus, could he not lay off on that for two minutes? He tossed the federal marshal badge at Cas. It hit him square in the chest because of course he wasn't paying attention, he was _staring_. Dean slid his keys into the ignition. "So _,_ we've got another missing person for Dad's case."

"Quaint." Cas said and looked down at what had hit him in the chest. Dean had thrown his federal marshal badge at him. Dean was letting him put it away. He trailed his thumb along the edge of the badge. He shivered. [He opened the glove box](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3880225), surprised that his hand was as steady as it was, and tucked the fake badge into the cigar box. That was _far_ too much to deal with today. Time to put a stop to that. He started digging around in his pockets.

"Yep. Small towns, got to love them, they keep me in business." Dean said pulling away from the side of the road. He looked over sharply when Cas suddenly bucked his hips up and started fidgeting around in his seat, "What're you _doing?"_

" _Nothing_." Cas jammed his hands into his back pockets. His fingers brushed across a thin ridge of plastic and then a second one. He snatched both blister packs out. Valium, just the ticket.

Dean shook his head and went back to driving. Cas was weird and the longer he hung around the weirder he seemed to get. At least Cas was just staring again instead of making everything some kind of sex joke. Crap. He was going to jinx it just thinking about it. He had enough on his plate as it was if everything Cas said about Sam was true, he didn't need to add the whole... _Cas problem_ on top of it. He scratched at his neck trying to ignore said problem sitting beside him. That bus ticket to Alaska was looking more attractive as the day wore on. A few moments went by before Dean noticed the sound of foil and plastic crunching. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Cas screwed around with...gum?

Cas popped out all ten pills from the first blister pack, dropped them into his mouth, and swallowed them with a sip from his flask. He started popping out the next ten.

Dean drove along blissfully ignorant for a couple of seconds before it occurred to him that he hadn't seen Cas buy gum but he _had_ found two 10mg blister packs of Valium on Cas when he had pat him down on that first day. Holy crap. He slammed the brakes on.

"What the hell Dean!?" Sam yelled from the back and he and Jess were thrown forward.

Cas lurched forward and put a hand out to brace himself on the dashboard just as he finished swallowing the next ten pills.

Dean threw the car into park and snatched the empty blister packs off Cas's lap. They were both empty but that didn't necessarily mean he took twenty freakin' tabs of Valium. Well, he hoped to hell it didn't, "How many did you take?"

"Not enough." Cas said huffing out a bitter laugh. He brought his flask up to his lips, intent on draining it.

Dean snatched the flask out of his hand and stuck it out of the window, emptying it onto the road.

"Hey!" Cas yelped. A cold feeling settled in his gut when Dean thrust his hand out the window. He reached over to snatch his flask back but Dean leaned further away. _Fine_ , he'd just go right over him. He scrambled across Dean and grabbed at his flask.

Of course Cas wasn't wearing his seatbelt again so it didn't take any time at all for him to be a complete freak and try to crawl over him. Those stupid aviators got caught in his hair as Cas pushed pass him. Dean elbowed Cas with his free arm but Cas just kept coming. He shook out the last of the liquor from the flask just as Cas grabbed it back. He shoved Cas back over to his own seat. He pulled the sunglasses out of his hair, probably taking a good chunk of hair with them, and threw them at Cas. Cas was shooting daggers at him, Dean did it right back.

"...what the hell was that?" Sam asked mildly stunned by whatever it was that just went down in front of him. He knew Dean was getting himself all worked up about the list, and Cas hadn't been helping matters, but honestly that was no reason to give them all whiplash and then....do whatever they had just done in the front seat.

"Our genius time traveller here just downed...?" Dean looked to Cas for an answer.

"N amount." Cas said still glaring at Dean. He cradled the flask to his chest, for a brief panicked moment he had been sure Dean was going to toss it out the window.

"What?" Dean shrugged in angry confusion.

"Work it out for yourself." Cas snapped screwing the lid of his flask back on. When he was sure Dean wasn't going to try and steal his flask a second time he eased it away from his chest. He checked the flask over to make sure this Dean hadn't done anything to it because Dean was an asshole; it didn't matter when it was (it's was why he couldn't have nice things). Always the Fearless Leader being hypocritical about drying out. He looked back over and narrowed his eyes at him just waiting for him to **_try_** something else.

Dean stared at Cas for a moment while Cas looked at him like he had offered to stab him with a rusty fork. What the hell was wrong with this guy? He had seemed with it more or less for the last couple of days. What the hell had made him go from mouthy prick to eating two packs of Valium in five seconds flat? And more importantly what was he going to do with him? He had watched him drink more than any human (or hunter) possibly could so he didn't think an emergency trip to the hospital was in order but... He tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, "Alright, Jess come sit up front. Cas get in the back. Sam you get to baby sit."

"Ah...why?" Sam asked still confused.

Dean tossed the empty blister packs into the back. Jess caught them. She leaned over so Sam could see them too. A sinking feeling went through Jess. They were trusting information from a guy who had just taken a bunch of Valium because...?

Nobody moved. Dean gave Cas a _get your butt in gear_ look. He snapped his fingers at him, "Come on, let's go Clark."

Cas glowered at Dean but Dean didn't break eye contact. Cas gave a huff of exasperation. He shoved his flask into a jacket pocket and tucked the arm of his sunglasses into the neck of his shirt. He pulled at the handle of the door and kicked it open. He waited for Jess to get out then slid into the backseat beside Sam. Dean was watching him carefully in the review mirror. He glared back at him, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Uh huh." Dean said shifting back into drive once Jess was buckled in. He had given up on trying to get Cas to wear a seatbelt. He watched Cas in the rear view mirror probably more than what was strictly road safe. He'd had an apocalypse dumped on his shoulders five days ago- an apocalypse that he had started because he couldn't keep Sam safe- and the mess in the backseat was supposed to stop it? His eyes flicked over to Sam then back to Cas. He hadn't told Sam yet what would happen to him if he screwed up and he was pretty sure Cas had listened to him and hadn't said a word about it. His eyes flicked over to Sam then back to Cas. If he wanted to save Sam he needed Cas. That bus ticket to Alaska would have to be a round trip.

"What?" Cas snarled at Dean from the backseat.

" _Nothing_." Dean snapped back. He flicked his eyes back to the mirror for a second. Cas grumbled something he didn't catch. It was probably for the best. He sighed. They had definitely gotten off to a bad start today. Cas had just kept egging it on to the point Dean had forgotten that behind the biting sarcasm and innuendos of the last four hours Cas probably had a lot more problems going on than he did. He had to deal with an apocalypse and by chance he had lucked out and gotten the cliff's notes. Cas had _lived_ through the apocalypse and kept suggesting that he'd probably have to live through it again. Fuck. They were going to have to really talk about this weren't they? No more vague _it's complicated_ and dodging all the awkward chick flickery. Goddamn it. Driving was supposed to make things better.

Cas glared into the rear view mirror, Dean kept _looking_ at him. "I _told_ you. I'm perfectly fine."

"Right. You keep telling yourself that." Dean said shaking his head. They were definitely going to have a talk to tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't read it two chapters ago you should probably have also read [It's definitely not a crisis.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3725513) It explains why Cas gets freaked out about the flask.
> 
> References  
> "Clark" specifically Steve Clark of Def Leppard who died after taking a variety of prescription drugs (one of which was Valium) and alcohol. You should probably check out his girlfriend's name ;)


	12. How nice- to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were going to have that talk but they had to find Dad and there were twenty three years of disappearances to deal with first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lines are ripped right from the pilot.
> 
> Yeah...Cas just [Noped](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/post/89462402231/basically-cas-checked-out-for-the-day) on the rest of the day. 
> 
> For those interested I generally post progress on this fanfic here: [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/), as well as what sort of research is going on in relation to this (though be warned there is also a lot of nonsense that goes on there too).

Except for running into those girls on the street who were putting up missing posters for Troy Squire the afternoon was pretty much a bust. Dean had had to do all the leg work on his own while Sam and Jess babysat Cas. In retrospect they really should have gotten a motel room first and just parked Cas there while they got to work. Oh well, no point in crying over two packs of Valium.

Dean headed for the all day breakfast diner where he had left Sam and Jess, babysitting Cas. They weren't hard to spot once he got inside. The giant, the pretty blonde, and the hippy all sitting in a booth together; they were not your average small town diner regulars (but they did sound like the opening to a joke). Cas, Dean noted, was trapped in the corner of the booth between the wall and Sam. Dean approved. They didn't need Cas wandering off and causing trouble with the local cops when they already had a bee in their bonnet about missing persons. Cas looked sketchy enough to be a kidnapper.

Dean sat down beside Jess. There were three coffee mugs on the table. Dean motioned to Cas's mug, "You didn't let him drink another couple gallons of coffee did you?"

"No. He won't actually drink anything...or eat." Sam said not at all concerned about Cas over hearing. Cas had plunked down in the booth and zoned out into his own private world. Which actually made things a lot easier even if it was getting a little worrisome, "He's just been sort of...quiet."

Dean glanced over at Cas because quiet did not sound like the Cas he had been driving around with all week, Valium high or not, Cas was chatty during the day. Cas's face was blank while he very slowly stacked creamers into a little pyramid. Dean's eyes flicked down to the empty basket where the peanut butter and jams should have been. He suspected if he were to frisk Cas he'd find them stashed away in his jacket with the others from this morning. What was up with that?

"I'm surprised he's awake still." Jess said watching Cas carefully take down his pyramid of creamers then start over. It was the epitome of sad. Cas might not know the meaning of tactful conversation but if the sudden Valium binge was any indicator his more... _abrasive_ moments were obviously a front for something. People didn't just take a bunch of drugs like that without a reason. From the way he kept stealing glances across the table she'd put her money on Dean being that reason, "Isn't Valium supposed to make you pass out?"

"Mostly you just want to take it easy and everything's good." Dean said grabbing a menu.

Sam and Jess both turned to stare at him.

Dean looked up and shrugged at them, "What? Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean I can't experiment."

Cas chuckled at the word experiment but otherwise stayed quiet.

Dean rolled his eyes but didn't bother to tell him off. There wasn't much point in saying anything until Cas came down but when he did they were _going_ to have that talk- whether Cas wanted to or not- and the first thing they were talking about was what the hell had happened in the car; the second thing was going to be the creepy staring. He started looking the menu over, "So the library was a bust. No murders on Centennial Highway."

"Did you look for suicides?" Sam asked. Jess's eyebrows arched up at the casual way he suggested looking for suicides. Being around Dean, even for this short amount of time, was making him forget how psychotic hunting could sound. He tried to explain it to Jess in the least crazy sounding way possible, "Ghosts are a product of a violent death, it doesn't have to be murder."

Dean let his head loll back. Why hadn't he thought of that? "No."

Sam checked his phone, "Well the library's still open for another couple of hours."

"Awesome." Dean ran a hand through his hair. Another couple of hours in a library. That was his definition of fun! He sighed then glanced over at Cas. He pressed his lips together for a moment thinking. He dropped the menu down, "Let's book some rooms first, stash Cas there while we work."

"We probably shouldn't be leaving him alone." Sam said motioning to Cas who was still either blissfully unaware or else entirely indifferent to the conversation, "Who knows what else he has on him."

"Yeah, we can't let him Stevo on us." Jess said with a concerned look at Cas. He was still idly stacking and re-stacking the creamers, and occasionally taking quick sideways glances at Dean and quietly sighing...a lot like he was fourteen with a crush on some member of a boy band. She took her own quick sideways glance at Dean. Either Dean was an oblivious idiot or he was doing his best to ignore it.

"We'll pat him down first." Dean said (which by _we_ he meant Sam). They were going to have that talk but they had to find Dad and there were twenty three years of disappearances to deal with first, "How much trouble can he get into in an empty motel room?"

\---

The clerk at the front desk leaned to his left to look around Dean, "What's wrong with him?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder. Sam had a grip on Cas's jacket trying to stop him from gently swaying into everything while Jess put back the tourist trap pamphlets Cas had knocked off the table. Dean looked back to the clerk and threw his credit card down, "Jet lagged."

The clerk picked the card up and looked it over, "You guys having a reunion or something?"

"Huh?"

The clerk held up the card, "I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

"Burt's already here?" Dean asked not missing a beat.

"Yeah." The clerk said looking the card over. "How many rooms?"

"One." Dean said, no point in maxing out a credit card if they didn't have to. "What room's Burt in? He didn't mention he'd be showing up early. We're supposed to be sharing a room with him."

"Ten." The clerk said running the card through the machine.

Dean nodded, said thanks, and waited for the transaction to go through. He scooped up his card and the room key when it was done and waved to Sam and Jess to start hauling Cas out with them.

"So Dad was staying here?" Sam asked once they were outside. He had overheard the conversation. Burt Aframian had Dad written all over it.

"Looks like." Dean said following along the line of rooms until they reached ten. He dug around in his coat for his lock picking kit and tossed it to Sam; he was faster at it. "Let's see what the old man was up to."

Sam caught the lock pick set then crouched down to get to work.

"You sure you're not secretly jewel thieves?" Jess asked as she watched Sam pick the lock. More and more she was beginning to equate hunter with criminal. If she wasn't in the middle of it she would think Sam's choice in majors was the definition of ironic.

"It was my second career choice." Dean said watching the parking lot for gawkers, "That or Batman."

"Dean, the world doesn't need another Batman and Robin." Sam said. He turned the knob of the door a few moments later and stepped into room ten.

"Hey, Clooney had his moments. Besides, I think I'm more of an Adam West." Dean said as he waved Jess in first then grabbed Cas pulling him along. Cas was happy to go and Dean figured he would be for another couple of hours. He deposited Cas on the bed then took a look around the room. Yeah. Dad had definitely been here.

"You think your father was _here_...building a wall of crazy?" Jess looked around at the walls covered in assorted newspaper clippings and notes. She glanced at Sam worried. Breaking and entering, and impersonating the police were one thing but this was tipping the scales into the land of very wrong. The room was making her wonder if Sam's family might have brain washed him because _this_ was what serial killers did in their spare time.

"Less crazy more obsession." Sam said absently. This was pretty run of the mill as far as Dad's obsessions went.

"Hey, he's _focused_." Dean defended while looking at the wall of victims.

"Sure Dean." Sam said looking the other wall over. He snatched a clipping off the wall. "Well you don't have to go back to the library. Dad already had it figured out. Suicide on Centennial Highway, Sylvania Bridge. It's a woman in white."

"A woman in white?" Jess asked. Her face pulled into a look crossed between disgust and disbelief, " _Bridezilla's_ kidnapping men?"

That got an breathy laugh from Cas which was about as much as he was going to contribute to the conversation.

"A woman in white is a particular kind of spirit." Sam said and started to explain the concept– _in length_.

Dean rifled through the room while Sam blathered on about ghosts for a bit. An occasional glance over told him that Jess was taking it about as well as most people did but Dean had to admit she was a trooper for sticking with them for this long. Dean cut the lesson about ghosts short when Sam started veering off topic. "Alright, so me and Sam are gonna go check out Sylvania Bridge–"

" _Oh **no**_. I'm not staying on my own in the room of crazy." Jess said. The room of crazy really was her limit for today.

Dean held up the key to the other room. "Alright–"

"No way." Jess said shaking her head. She just knew that if she ended up being ditched in the serial killer room Horatio was going to take his sunglasses off and try to say something witty over her dead body. "I'm coming with you."

"Jess, it could be dangerous th–" Sam started.

"Nope. I've seen all the teen horror movies, Sam. I know what happens when you get left behind because it's _safe_." Jess said with a _just try me_ look. She motioned towards the newspaper clipping Sam was still holding, "Besides you just told me that she only goes after unfaithful men. I've never been unfaithful and if you haven't noticed, not a man. So really I'll be the safest one there, you know, assuming we're not all crazy."

Sam looked to Dean for help.

Dean shrugged giving him a _she's **your** girlfriend_ look.

Sam's shoulders dropped down little while he gave Dean the betrayed sad puppy eyes.

Dean rolled his eyes. Short of handcuffing her to the furniture there wasn't much he could do and he doubted Sam really wanted him handcuffing his girlfriend to the bed. Sam wasn't that kinky.

"I'm going." Jess said watching the two of them debate silently. She stared them down until Sam sighed in defeat and Dean pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, so you wanna come on a ride along?" Dean said to Jess still pinching at his nose. He got a sharp nod in reply. Things were just not going his way today. Well if they were going to drag a civilian along at least it was just a ghost. Then there was Cas to deal with. Cas who was still happily spaced out. There was no way Dean was bringing him somewhere that might require thinking on your toes. He snapped his fingers in front of Cas and waved his hand a little until he got his attention. "Hey, we've gotta go check out this ghost on Sylvania Bridge."

"I can't go." Cas said immediately.

Okay...that was surprising. Dean had expected to have to argue about it. He wondered if Cas meant he couldn't go because he was still screwed up by whatever it was that happened in the car or if he meant he was too high. Either way this made it a million times easier. He held up the key to the other room, "Right. We're gonna drop you off next door. You gonna be good for about an hour?"

Cas gave him a wry look, "Probably another three."

\---

One day Dean was going to win at rock, paper, scissors but that day was not today. So Sam got to sit and prep Jess for going to check out a possibly haunted bridge while Dean got to frisk Cas. What a great way to spend the evening. He went through Cas's jacket first and found one bottle of assorted pills, the empty flask, and every packet of peanut butter and jam Cas had come into contact with since this morning– the mints were gone. Dean pocketed the pills and left the peanut butter and jam sitting on the table.

Cas casually plucked the empty flask out of Dean's hands and set it aside out of Dean's reach.

Dean checked Cas's boots next on the off chance he had hidden something there then he couldn't really come up with anything else to check except for Cas himself. Right...he was just gonna...feel up the guy he apparently went gay for in the future. He shoved aside his various worries because hey, he had already given Cas the pat down once before and he hadn't suddenly liked dicks because of it. He was just being a great big baby about this....dear god this was going to be awkward. He motioned for Cas to stand. "Come on, get up."

Cas chuckled at the command but stood all the same.

Dean hesitantly started patting him down. He took the blade out of Cas's pants and thought of a few hundred dick jokes as he did. Cas made a funny hissing sound when he pulled it out (more dick jokes right there) but he didn't think he had accidentally cut him. Cas was just being weird again. He went through Cas's pockets and patted him down in what he hoped was the most professional and impersonal way possible. When it was all said and done (and guess what, he wasn't suddenly gay) he had a handful of pills from Cas's jeans and the broken plastic bits of the bottle they had been in, the note and list, that huge ass dagger, the creepy future ring and amulet, and two stray mints. Dean tossed the mints into the pile of peanut butter and jam. He set the note and list on the table while he dumped the loose pills into the bottle he had first found. He slipped the bottle back into his pocket. He set the dagger down on the table with the note and list. That was all going to the car. He didn't want to leave his roadmap to avoiding the apocalypse with someone this spaced out, he'd stash it in the glove box. And the dagger? Well, no pointy objects for Cas while he was alone, not after whatever it was that happened in the car that had made him down two packs of Valium. He was about to stuff the future versions of his ring and amulet into his pocket but he hesitated. He looked over at Cas who was staring passively at him. He held them out.

It took a moment but Cas raised his hand up, palm open. Dean dropped the ring and amulet into his hand. His fingers curled around them slowly before he tucked them back into his pocket.

"Need anything from the car before we go?" Dean asked scouring the room for anything else that Cas probably shouldn't be left alone with. Coffee maker, the glass cups on the dresser, and the pens were going too- he had seen Casino, those things were dangerous. They'd stash them in the other room. "And no, you can't have the booze or any other mystery pills you have in there."

"Oh...." Cas said. He contemplated an answer, "...in that case I'd like to do some field stripping and cleaning."

Dean eyed him. Field stripping? Cleaning? Well he _was_ the submachine gun hippy.

" ** _Dean_**." Sam hissed seeing his brother actually contemplate leaving someone who was clearly stoned out of their tree with guns, "We are **_not_** leaving him alone with a bunch of guns."

"Yeah, that's kind of the height of terrible ideas." Jess's eyebrow scrunched together in concern. She looked between the three men in the room- Cas was still doing the cliché looks of longing- and bit at the inside of her cheek. She didn't want to stay alone with Cas in the murder hotel but she wasn't going to let Dean, or anyone else for that matter, leave someone who clearly had problems alone with guns.

"Jesus Sammy, I'm not gonna give him a bunch of loaded guns." Dean gave them an incredulous look. He wasn't a moron. He wasn't even going to leave Cas alone with _pens_. "Obviously I'll unload them first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line "we can't let him Stevo on us" is referring to Steven Ronald Jensen of the Vandals (who if you don't know originated in California). He died of an overdose of prescription meds in August 2005 (it'd be a current death for them). She's not referring to the guy from Jackass or the guy from SLC Punk however interestingly Steven Ronald Jensen was actually in some legal battles about the use of early Vandals songs in Jackass 2 and SLC Punk. The more you know!
> 
> Also, I thought the last name coincidence was funny.
> 
> References  
> The title is a Slaughter house five quote.  
> Batman and Robin (1997). It's just....it's terrible.  
> Adam West played Batman in 1960's tv series which was hilariously campy.  
> Dean's insistence on pens being dangerous is because of scene in Casino (1995) wherein a guy gets stabbed in the neck with a pen.  
> "Horatio" Jess is referring to CSI Miami.
> 
> (No links this chapter because Cas isn't home right now)


	13. Sylvania Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How do ghosts drive cars!?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lines are ripped right from the pilot.
> 
> I'm going away this weekend so there shall be radio silence after tonight until monday as far as responding to comments goes.
> 
>    
> For those interested I generally post progress on this fanfic here: [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/), as well as what sort of research is going on in relation to this and various....I'll call them author's notes (though there are other things that go on there too).

Dean wasn't going to leave Cas alone with the tools to clean a gun either. Despite Sam making faces at him for a good five minutes and Jess looking at him like he was a slug he dug out the two Berettas Cas had stashed in that duffle bag of his (they really had to figure out what to do with all that cash). He triple checked to make sure they were unloaded before handing them over to Cas. Cas didn't seem like he remembered or cared that he had wanted to clean the guns too. They left him in the hotel room methodically field stripping the Berettas while they went to check out the bridge.

"Stick close." Sam said to Jess as they came up to the bridge. "If Constance's ghost shows up just let it go after Dean. He can handle himself."

" _Hey_." Dean said offended. "Why would she come for me? I'm faithful."

"For one night at a time." Sam scoffed. 

Dean would have liked to give Sam another thwack upside of the head but he was sitting in the back with Jess. He settled for stopping the car sharply, throwing Sam forward a little. He put the car in park and looked out at the bridge in front of them, "So this is where Constance took the swan dive."

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam said undoing his seatbelt and leaning over the front seat to look out the window.

Dean peered out into the dark. It didn't look haunted out there but then it never did, "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?" Jess asked undoing her own seatbelt. "We're on the bridge. Is she just going to-" Jess waved a hand in the air, "-appear?"

"Maybe." Sam said. He looked back and forth across the bridge. Still nothing. 

Dean got out and headed for the railing of the bridge. He leaned over and watched the water go by. He heard the car doors open then close. Sam and Jess came up beside him. He glanced over at Jess, "Hey Jess, what were you and Cas talking about before we got back?"

"Mostly just how I'm probably crazy for being here." Jess said staring down at the water. She didn't mention the _horrifically_ comment. Cas seemed like he had enough problems to deal with today, adding an agitated Sam and Dean to that didn't seem humane. But while she didn't mention the _horrifically_ comment it did have her thinking about death again. Death by jumping off a bridge didn't sound any better than death by burning. She didn't particularly want to try either first hand. Maybe she should have just booked a flight back home for the weekend or something instead.

"That's it?" Dean asked turning around. He leaned against the railing. He looked up and down the bridge for the ghost of the day. Constance wasn't making any grand entrances just yet.

"Yeah." Jess said leaning in a little closer to Sam for comfort. Contemplating death in the middle of the night on a bridge where a woman had committed suicide was just out right freaky whether or not ghosts were real.

"What the hell set him off then?" Dean wondered aloud. "He was good for the last couple of days."

"Good?" Sam almost laughed. "Are you blind? Dean, have you seen how much he's been drinking? And all those mystery pills he takes?"

"Well...yeah...but you should have seen him before we picked you up. He downed four bottles of that Everclear stuff on his own." Dean said thinking back on that drive. Cas had been totally out of it then but he had toked up, calmed down, and pulled himself together after....right? "But after that he seemed good and he's been snarking about the list all day. I just figured he'd drank away his problems like a normal person."

Jess's eyebrows went up at that. _Like a normal person?_ Sam hadn't been kidding when he'd mention things about his family drinking.

"I dunno Dean." Sam said shrugging, "I know less about him than you do."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam trying to gauge if Sam was implying something or if he just meant he had been forced to spend more time with him.

"You two are so _dense_." Jess said rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She had heard enough of the story- it was pretty much the only topic of conversation in the car- and she had read the notes, and not to mention _she had **eyes**_. All Cas had been doing in the diner once Dean got there was sigh like he was in some bad romance novel. How had they not noticed that?

"What?" Dean and Sam asked.

"Well if we're all going to believe time travel is as real as ghosts, you and him hook up in the future right?" Jess said. No one had come out and just said it in front of her but from the way Cas looked at Dean when he thought no one was watching (which he wasn't good at) she was guessing that _I love you_ was more than friendship.

Dean fidgeted. That was so not in his future. That future him could have Cas, he'd stick with women. 

"Right. Well if all the time travel talk is real, I doubt it ended well when you think about what's in that note and the way Cas acts." Jess said. She couldn't believe they hadn't noticed it. She had always thought those soap opera looks of longing were bullcrap but Cas was out to prove her wrong in that department. "But I would bet my entire collection of Buffy DVDs that he was still stupidly in love with you when it ended and probably still is."

Dean visibly stiffened. He had just assumed that when Cas had said it had been over it had really been over and Cas was just being an asshole trying to make him uncomfortable with the staring and the dirty jokes. He flinched thinking back on some of the more explicit ones; coming from some one- a _dude_ that might actually be.... _in love_ with him was...disconcerting.

"And you've been doing stuff like _that_ all day." Jess said jabbing a finger at Dean as he twitched and fidgeted.

Dean glowered at her. He hadn't been doing anything all day. He had been driving. Cas was the one that was being weird all day and making things awkward.

Jess rolled her eyes. How was Sam's brother such a flake about this kind of stuff? "If he's really from the future, well he's lost everything except you, hasn't he?"

"Whoa, it's not like _that_." Dean said putting his hands up in defense. How was Cas still making the situation awkward? He wasn't even here. "I don't even know the guy."

"I'm not saying go shack up with him. Just try being a bit more friendly to him and not act like a complete freak around him all the time." Jess said shaking her head, exasperated. She was starting to get why Sam had seemed a little strange at times when they had first started dating. If Dean was anything to go by Sam's whole family seemed to have some....issues (seriously, who says, drink away your problems like a normal person?). "He just...he looks lonely. Alright? I think he just needs a friend."

Sam had watched the whole conversation go down and now that Jess was done he had to smirk and chuckle a little. His face pulled into an amused smile, "You've had that bottled up for awhile, huh?"

"Possibly." Jess said tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. They kept leaving her in the car with Cas or sending her off with him to get junk from gas stations. Not to mention how he had been all day. It was getting hard not to notice what was going on with Cas. As horribly untactful as he was she felt kind of bad for him. Even if the time travel story wasn't true she was pretty sure Cas believed it was true.

"You would never give up the Buffy DVDs." Sam said joking.

Jess shook her head. She started to tell him she wouldn't have to because she was totally right about it but a strange movement caught her eye. She turned to look down the bridge. A woman with dark hair dressed all in white was standing on the railing. She grabbed Sam's arm in shock, "Sam!"

Dean and Sam turned around just in time to see Constance take that swan dive. The three of them ran towards the spot she jumped off and looked over the railing. There was nothing.

"Where'd she go?" Jess asked looking into the water below. Could ghosts drown? Would there even be a body?

The impala roared to life behind them. They turned to stare into the headlights.

"...who's driving your car?" Sam asked. Had Cas somehow sneaked into the impala without them seeing?

Dean dug into his pockets and took out his keys. He held them up. The car revved and lurched towards them. That wasn't good. Dean started to back up. The car picked up speed. He turned and bolted as the car came after them. Fuck that Constance bitch! No one tried to run him over with his own car damn it!

Sam turned tail and ran after Dean.

Jess dashed away from them. Just in time too. The car flew past her. Thank god she had been right about the ghost not wanting to go after her. Wait....the ghost? Oh god, was she really thinking about ghosts as if they were real now? A shout from ahead made her snap her eyes up. The car was right behind Sam and Dean. Her blood turned cold when she saw Sam jump over the railing and the car slam into the space he had been moments before. She ran forward, ghosts be damned, "Sam!"

The lights were still on but the car had stopped running when they had jumped the railing. Sam hauled himself up onto the side of the bridge, "Jess! Are you okay?"

Jess slid to a halt in front of Sam and started to pull him back onto the bridge. Which meant she held on and as Sam climbed back onto the bridge because Sam was about the size and weight of a mountain. "Oh my god! Are you okay? Did she get you with the car? How do ghosts drive cars!?"

Sam gathered her up in a hug until Jess stopped questioning ghosts' driving abilities and went still. She slid her arms around him. He breathed, reassuring himself that Jess was safe. This was exactly why he was staying out of hunting. He didn't want to always be wondering if Jess was safe or if he'd get crushed by a ghost driving a car- okay maybe Jess was right about that being crazy- and leave the people he loved devastated.

"I'm okay too!" Dean yelled from below the bridge. 

Sam eased back from Jess, though he didn't let her go. He looked over the railing to see Dean laying in the muck below the bridge. "Why'd you jump right off?"

" _Because there was a **ghost** trying to **run me down** with **my own car** , Sammy!"_ Dean yelled back up. He sat up. The muck made an unpleasant squishing sounds. He stood up. His boots were full of water. "Awesome. Today just keeps getting better and better."

Sam and Jess headed over to the end of the bridge and met Dean as he climbed back up to the road. Jess put a hand to her face to cover her nose. Sam pulled a face like he had eaten a bug.

"What?" Dean asked wiping his hand down his sleeve and slopping some more muck off.

"You smell like a toilet." Sam said taking a step back.

Dean paused. He brought his arm up and sniffed. Yeah, that funky smell was him.

"I think you fell into the town's sewage outlet." Jess said pulling her shirt up over her nose.

Dean's shoulders sagged. This was going to get all over the car. The car! He ran over to his baby. When he came close he slowed down in case Constance showed up again (what a bitch!) but nothing happened as he drew up beside it. He put a hand out to touch it. The car didn't roar to life or flash its lights or anything strange. He let out a long breath of relief. That relief didn't last long. What had Constance done to his baby? He marched around to the front and opened the hood. That ghost was gonna get it if she had done anything to the car (well she was gonna get it either way).

Sam and Jess followed not far behind. Sam approached cautiously. He didn't want to tango with a haunted impala twice in one night. "Do you think she did something to it?"

"I dunno. She better not have." Dean said looking down at the engine. He couldn't see a damn thing. "Sam, get me a flash light out of the trunk and turn the headlights off."

Sam wrinkled his nose and put his hand out for the keys. Dean slapped them into his hand, getting mud all over him. "Thanks Dean."

"It's what big brothers are for Sammy." Dean said peering down at his car.

Sam and Jess watched as Dean went over every inch of the car. Sam would have thought he was being extra thorough for their safety but he knew Dean was just worried about the car. 

Dean closed the hood then went around to the sides of the impala and got down on the ground to check and make sure Constance hadn't done anything to the brakes. Everything looked in order. They probably wouldn't die on the trip back to the hotel. He turned the flashlight off. So much for this being a quick recon mission. He hoped their stoned hippy was amusing himself back at the hotel and not trying to buy pot off the locals again. That's all he needed tonight, Cas getting arrested for possession.

The car ride back was quiet. Jess were still freaked out which meant Sam was freaked out and Dean did _not_ want to talk about his increasingly bad day. He was definitely putting off that talk with Cas until tomorrow. Today was already too long. _Especially_ if what Jess said was true. What if Cas really was planning on trying out number twelve on the list? ....he'd have to set him straight on that- heh, _set him straight_. Right. 

They pulled into the hotel parking lot twenty minutes later which was twenty minutes too long if you asked Dean. The driver's seat was going to stink like a sewer for a month. He parked the car and got out. He headed around back and opened the trunk to grab his bag.

"We should really stay in Dad's room." Sam said to Jess. He wanted Jess to be as safe as possible after the whole Constance thing on the bridge.

"I am not staying in the murder room." Jess stated as simple fact. Having the existence of ghosts confirmed was enough excitement for one night, sleeping in the murder room was pushing it too far. She could understand why Sam wanted out of ghost hunting if ghosts trying to run him down was a regular occurrence.

"It's safer there. Dad has it set up to keep things out." Sam explained picking up his and Jess's bag.

"The murder room is safer?" Jess asked incredulous. Had Sam ever seen a single horror movie?

Dean ignored the bickering and headed for room eleven. Either it was his for the night or he'd have to collect up Cas and drag his high as a kite butt next door. He unlocked the door and kicked it open. There was a whirl of movement inside. Dean dropped his bag and went for his gun. He brought it up and tried to be ready for anything because Cas was standing between the motel beds looking wild-eyed pointing a gun at him. This really was a god awful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we finally get back to Cas.
> 
> I find Jess hard to write for. We get two episodes of her in the series and in one of them she's not even real. She's such a blank slate. 
> 
> Just as an aside note, consider that Cas looks like a late thirties/early forties dude who's been to hell and back (pun **_so_** intended) but he's actually a bajillion years old and has only owned a human body for about four years. And everyone else? Well... Dean's 26. Sam's 22. Jess is 21. They cut a very unusual image when they wander around together.


	14. My heart feels like an alligator (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank fuck he wasn't human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to frame this better since it could be easily forgotten when you consider the update schedule, but up until a few days ago Cas was still fighting off croats and struggling to survive on a daily basis and it's been maybe eighteen hours since he decided to stay in 2005.
> 
> Early update again. I have a wedding to go to on Friday.
> 
> This is where I do that tumblr thing: [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/). Beyond the usual nonsense of tumblr I also post progress, updates, and research notes for this fic there.

[The door banged open](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4067466).

Cas sprang out of bed like a jackrabbit, grabbed his gun off the nightstand, and brought it up all in one continuous motion. Instinct and training had flicked on and burned the world away to one very simple point: something had found him while he slept. He pointed the gun at the intruder in the doorway. He squeezed the trigger twice.

Click. Click.

Nothing happened.

Cas's brain kicked in, observing what was around him. Unfamiliar room. Two exits. Door and window. Night. Yet there was light. Dean. Dean covered in mud and staring at him. Dean had his gun trained on him. What was going on? Had croats attacked? Did Dean think they had gotten him at last? Did they get Dean at last? No croats didn't use guns. Was Dean somehow possessed? He said christo but got no reaction. Had his brothers come back finally and taken Dean up on his yes? Why would angels need a gun? Someone was coming up behind Dean. He adjusted his aim a little higher as– Lucifer!

Click. Click. Click.

Nothing happened again; not that Cas had expected that to do anything but piss Lucifer off. Cas felt cool fear settling into his gut. Something about this wasn't right. It was too loud outside. The room didn't smell right. Dean looked... _off_. Lucifer stared at him wide-eyed. No. Wait. That was...Sam? A tremor ran through him. He had....oh god. What had he done? He hadn't even hesitated (Dean would be proud). He stared at Dean. Cas could read [the fear in Dean's face](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4067655) as if he were yelling it across the room. He had tried... The gun fell from his hand as he started to shake.

Dean kept his gun up until Cas had dropped his gun to the floor. The icy fear of coming back to his room to find someone waiting for him with a gun- even if he was pretty sure it wasn't loaded- was still doing a number on his heart. When his senses stopped screaming danger at him he slowly lowered his gun. _Jesus fuck_ , Cas could have blown them away just now. Thank god he had made sure the Berettas were unloaded. He took stock of the situation. He was okay, a little freaked out by the resident hippy, but okay. He knew Sam was behind him and okay. Jess was still outside the room, presumably also okay. Okay. Everyone was okay. Time for less guns. He set his gun down on the table. He looked back at Cas. Oh. Everyone was not okay.

The gravity of what he had done sank into Cas. His chest felt tight as his heart hammered. If his gun had been loaded... His whole body shook. He was taking failure to a whole new level. He was going to fail Dean and get him killed– no, _kill him._ Another tremor raced through him. He had almost killed Dean. He couldn't do this. He should never have been sent back here to fix things. Dean was right. He was broken. Useless except for killing— _and he had tried to kill Dean._

"Ah...Cas?" Dean asked putting his hands up as if trying to calm a wild animal. Cas's eyes were wide and unfocused, his chest was heaving rapidly. Dean tried again, "You... okay there buddy?"

"What's going on?" Jess asked coming up beside Sam. Had the ghost followed them back to the motel?

"Stay back Jess." Sam said putting a hand out to stop her from leaning into the room. He turned back to watch Cas. He knew it was a stupid idea to let him have the Berettas even if they weren't loaded, "Cas is...I dunno. Just stay back."

"Cas...? Hey, you still with us dude?" Dean asked taking a half step forward. He wasn't sure if he should back up or go closer. He had no idea what Cas was going to do next. That wide-eyed wild look didn't give it away. It looked like a toss up between going River Tam or Heather Donahue. Cas suddenly strode towards him. Dean backed up a little, hands still up defensively. Cas wrapped his arms around him, buried his face in the side of Dean's neck, and proceeded to meltdown. Guess it was going to be a Heather Donahue night. Dean craned his head back- utterly bewildered- to look over his shoulder at Sam. His eyes very clearly asked, _What the hell is this? And what do I do about it?_

"Ah..? Umm...." Sam shrugged. What the hell was _he_ supposed to do about it? He knew Cas had problems but he hadn't expected...whatever this was. Cas had looked ready for murder when he had walked in behind Dean and now he was...doing this.

Cas heard Sam stammer. He reached out and grabbed Sam by the shirt. He dragged him closer until he could get an arm around him too. He was going to utterly fail and get them both killed. _He had just tried to kill them both_. His charges, friends, and family; he was going to get them killed all over again. He wasn't even a real angel this time, just a few leftover bits of one. How was he supposed to stop the Apocalypse when he was just a broken mortal angel? He couldn't do it as a fully powered Angel of the Lord. He didn't stand a chance. He was going to fail and live through that **_Nightmare_** all over again. Why did Dean do this to him? How could Dean finally say **_that_** and then send him back here knowing full well that he was broken and would fail miserably? _He had almost **killed** him_. Oh god, _he had almost killed him;_ had meant to with ever fibre of his being in that moment. He sucked in a shaky breath and pressed his face harder into Dean's neck. He was never going to see his Dean again and he had tried to kill this Dean.

Dean looked over Cas's head to Sam. Sam's eyebrows went up in confusion. Well at least he wasn't the only one who had no idea what to do with some dude in his late thirties who was crying on him.

Being dragged into a bone crushing hug and squashed against Dean's side was not how Sam had expected the night to go when he saw Cas standing there with that gun. When Sam's brain finally caught up with what was going on he realized it was kind of obvious what they should be doing. He worked his arm free from Cas's death grip and gave him an awkward half hug. Cas racked in a breath between sobs. Sam gave Dean a pointed look then nodded down to his arm. Dean could just suck it up for once. When someone was having a breakdown like this you just gave them their goddamned hug, potentially delusional almost stranger on Valium or not.

Dean tried to shrug, which was hard with two people mashed against him. He shot Sam another look trying to be annoyed with Sam's suggestion (Really? They were going to hug this out?) but he was sure it came off more as unsettled and confused. Sam screwed up his face at him again and kicked him. Well...maybe Sam was right, hugging sure beat having guns pointed at him (thank god he had unloaded the Berettas) or having Cas down another two packs of Valium. Dean brought his arms up, having to snake one out from between Sam and Cas, and settled them around Cas (in the least gay way as possible). Cas froze for a split second before letting Sam go, wrapping both arms around Dean instead, and then trying to squeeze him like a tube of toothpaste (great idea Sam). The air was forced out of Dean's lungs in a wheeze. He tried to push Cas's arms off him, " _Caaas,_ you're kind of- _umphf_ \- crushing me here."

Cas squeezed harder. _He had almost killed **Dean**_. He had made the decision this morning to abandon Dean to the croats and then by nightfall he had promptly tried to kill him. Harsh painful noises ripped out of his throat as he pressed his face into Dean's neck. He was **_never_** going to see his Dean again and then he had tried, with all intent, to kill this Dean.

Dean started backing up, trying to get away from Cas's bone crushing hug. Epic meltdown or not he really needed to breathe at some point in the near future. Preferably the very near future. Cas's arms slid further around him pressing a little more air out of his lungs. Holy crap, Cas was going to kill him one way or another today.

Cas shuffled forward with Dean as he tried to back away. He couldn't let go. Dean kept leaving him. He knew it was selfish after what he had just tried to do but he couldn't let go. He couldn't let Dean leave this time. He was broken and he needed him and— he would have _killed_ him. He tried to suck in a breath but it turned into a mangled sob. He had come so close to killing Dean. It hadn't been a slip up. It wasn't a botched mission. It wasn't an accident or a twist of fate. He had pointed a gun at Dean and _meant_ to kill him.

Sam stepped aside as Dean backed up against the wall, his eyes wide and confused. He wasn't sure if Dean was trying to get away or just looking for something to support himself while Cas clung to him like a bur. Sam couldn't look away, all those similes about things being like a train wreck were true. You really couldn't look away when you watched one. Dean shot a _what the hell do I do!?_ look at him. Sam shrugged, he really didn't know.

Jess grabbed the bags Sam and Dean had dropped and stepped into the room. She had the wherewithal to close the door. The sketchy kids in the parking lot didn't need to watch this. She crossed the room softly and sat down on the far bed. She didn't have to wonder what she should be doing because she could tell there wasn't anything she _could_ do. They'd all just have to wait until Cas tired himself out.

When Cas finally loosened his grip Dean gasped for breath. Holy crap, Cas was a lot stronger than he looked and he did a good impersonation of a boa constrictor. Dean tried to angle his neck away from Cas but Cas let out a series of pitiful sobs in response. Dean kept still. He hoped it was tears pooling in the crook of his neck and not snot and drool. Cas pressed his face harder into Dean's neck. Sam's hug it out plan was the worst idea all night. He grimaced when Cas's wet nose pressed against his neck. That was definitely not tears. Gross. Dean wasn't sure if Cas was trying to talk through the tears and snorting or if it just coincidentally sounded like words. He thought he caught his name a few times and maybe something about staying and flying but mostly Cas was an unintelligible mess....and he wasn't stopping. Cas just kept- _crying_. A lot. Against him. Fuck, this was more awkward than patting him down. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He had done the hug thing but Cas wasn't letting go. So now what? He stared up at the ceiling: uncomfortable, unsettled, uneasy, and every other un-adjective he could think of. He was covered in what was probably sewage and Cas was in the middle of a pretty damn thorough meltdown while trying to wrap himself around him while Sam and Jess sat around and watched. Holy fucking hell. What the hell was his life coming too? What the hell was he supposed to **_do_** about this? He sighed to himself. Fuck. Sam was right. He pulled Cas in tighter.

\---

Dean wasn't sure how long Cas's rendition of Old Faithful went on for but eventually Cas quieted down and started to ease back. Dean let his hands drop away slowly in case Cas suddenly went full on waterworks again. God this was weird. He had just hugged it out with the guy his future self was supposed to be all... _gay_ for.

Cas slouched down before cautiously peering up at Dean and dear god did it ever hurt.

Dean looked down at Cas. He looked like a wreck. There was river muck all down the front of him, one side of his face, and in his hair; he looked like he had an epic case of pink eye (he'd probably get it too if he got that muck in his eyes); and there was snot dripping down from his nose. Dean looked down and tried to look....Reassuring? Calming? What the hell do you do when a guy you know for half a week has a total meltdown on you?

The pain was draining away. Cas took a few steady even breaths. Dean was staring down at him. Cas stared back and wished it was a different Dean looking at him now. If it were his Dean he could turn this into something safer, fighting or fucking, and it would just go away and Dean would understand. He took a few more controlled breaths and the last of the pain drained away– and with it everything else.

Dean gingerly dislodged Cas's arms and gently guided him over to one of the chairs at the table. He got Cas sitting down. Alright....now what? Did he...give him a pat on the back? People did that right? He watched Cas, waiting to see if Cas would come up with any bright ideas on what he should do next but Cas was just staring blankly ahead. Dean looked over to Sam and Jess for some input. He shrugged at them and nodded towards Cas. This was way above his pay grade. He did not do crying and hugging and whatever else Cas was thinking of doing next.

Sam was equally at a loss but Jess got up and went to the bathroom. There were no cups because Dean had taken them out of the room- probably a good thing considering what had just happened- so she couldn't go with her first plan of get Cas some water. She spied a facecloth. She grabbed it and wet it down. She brought it back out, at first meaning to give it to Dean but one look at him and Jess could tell Dean was at his limit for being physically supportive for the day and there was just no chance in hell Cas was going to be in any state of mind to take care of himself at the moment. She had never seen someone just empty out so much pain before. She went over and started gently wiping the mud from his face.

Cas was vaguely aware that someone was touching him; soft pats to his face and into his hair. It probably should have been comforting but he had nothing left in order to feel comforted. He felt.....angelically empty. There was just the cool baseline hum of his diminished grace and nothing else. His body hadn't started crashing from the flux of drugs and emotions. He wasn't exhausted or high or in turmoil. He just was. Thank fuck he wasn't human.

Dean, for a lack of anything better to do, shucked off his jacket. It was drying out and chafing. He threw it over the other chair then went to the bathroom to wash his hands and face and that totally _was_ snot on his neck. Ugh. When he had the mud out of his eyebrows and his face and neck were mostly clean he stopped and looked up. He stared at himself in the mirror. What was it some future him had seen in Cas? So far all he had seen was someone who went on benders that put hunters to shame, was a little creepy with the staring, and then ate two packs of Valium for no goddamned reason. Oh, and lets not forget would have shot him and then went and cried about— fuck. He was starting to really not like Jess. She was worse than Sam for being right. He closed his eyes for a moment contemplating just how much today sucked balls. He let out a long drawn out sigh. If he had almost shot Cassie he'd be pretty damn upset about it too. Great, now he really felt like an asshole. Even if the whole Cas thing was totally not happening (and it wans't) he could at least appreciate how much it must have freaked Cas out.

Sam poked his head into the bathroom. "You okay?"

"Me?" Dean asked with a huff of laughter. Had Sam missed the last twenty minutes? "I'm not the one who just unleashed the floodwaters."

Sam didn't press the matter. If Dean was okay with what had happened then he'd let it be. No point in stirring a hornet's nest if he didn't have to. Sam changed the topic to some basic logistics. "I've got to shower, I've got your sewer mud all over me, and we should really think about getting some food before everything closes down for the night."

"Yeah. Shower and food sound awesome right about now." Dean agreed and then maybe a whole eight hours of sleep. Today had really gone on for too long. Today needed to be over yesterday.

Sam nodded. "Alright, me and Jess are gonna bunk down next door. I don't think we should be shuffling Cas around too much tonight. You should probably stay with him– while we go out."

Dean pinched at the bridge of his nose. Sam was right (again). Someone probably _should_ stay with Cas. He wasn't sure if he could handle another meltdown if it came to it but it looked like he was going to volunteer for it anyway, "Yeah....get me a burger...and some pie if they have it."

"What do you think Cas will want?" Sam asked leaning back to look at Cas. He was still staring blankly ahead. Jess was sitting on the bed nearest to Cas watching him. He was fairly certain any questions he asked Cas right now would be met with that blank stare.

"I dunno. Probably not pizza. The only thing I've seen him eat are that bag of chips in the car, some mints, and a piece of toast." Dean said. Saying it out loud made him realize that he should have noticed something was up a long time ago. People didn't just not eat for no reason. Great. Now he felt like an even bigger asshole.

"Right...well...I'll pick something out." Sam said before heading back into the main part of the hotel room and collecting up Jess. There were no more complaints about the murder room.

Dean watched Sam and Jess head out. The door closed softly, which meant now it was just him and Cas....well that wasn't awkward at all. His eyes fell to Cas. Cas was still sitting perfectly still and looking like someone had just hit him with a bus– no, a mack truck. He watched Cas for a minute but Cas didn't do anything. He just sat and stared. Dean stepped a little closer, "Uh...hey... Cas...?"

The impala rumbled to life outside. Cas blinked and looked over at Dean. The easy angelic emptiness threatened to vanish when he looked at him. He took in a sharp breath. It hurt his chest. He had almost killed Dean. He would have if his gun was loaded. He took another breath. His throat convulsed as he suppressed a sob. He had almost killed Dean. Pain started to press in on his chest once more. What had happened to the cool impersonal hum of grace? Why did that have to go? He didn't want to feel this. He didn't want to know what it felt like to have tried to kill Dean. He had already abandoned him, he didn't need to feel this too.

"Look, I gotta shower. I smell like an outhouse." Dean said plucking at his shirt, "You gonna be good for a couple minutes?"

"Yes." Cas said lying through his teeth. He was far from good but he couldn't fall apart like that again in front of Dean. He had almost killed him. Dean. The one person he saved over and over above all others. The one person he had given everything for. He had almost killed him. He had _meant_ to kill him.

"...alright." Dean grabbed his bag off the floor. He was about to turn and go but he hesitated. He looked at Cas. They really needed to have some kind of a talk about today didn't they? Fuck, they did. "When I get out we're going to have.... a chat. No pressure, just a friendly chat. Okay?"

Cas stared at Dean. A chat? Not if he had anything to do about it. He nodded fractionally. It was enough for Dean. He watched Dean walk into the bathroom– leaving his jacket behind. Cas stood up and grabbed the jacket. He dug through the pockets. Relief poured through him. Dean had left the prescription bottle in his coat. He opened the bottle and poured the pills out onto the table with the muddy water that had leaked in. His eyes played over the pills. He didn't want to have to _think_ about how he had almost killed Dean. He didn't want to _talk_ about how he had almost killed Dean. He didn't want to think about how he had abandoned Dean and he certainly wasn't going to talk about it. He didn't want to think or talk at all. Eszopiclone. There were two tablets left. It wasn't enough to knock him out for more than an hour or two but he'd take that short reprieve if it was all he'd get. He swallowed them dry then swept the other pills back up into the bottle. He collapsed onto the bed and counted off the minutes until the sleeping pills would kick in. He had tried to kill Dean.

\---

Dean rubbed his hair down then checked the towel. There wasn't any leftover mud on the towel this time. Finally. That was the most disgusting shower he had had in his life. That sewer muck had been in his _nose_...and _on his **junk**_. He rolled his shoulders twitching in disgust thinking about it. He dug through his bag and pulled on sleep pants and a t-shirt (Metallica rocks!). He was obviously stuck in for the rest of the night, no point in putting jeans on. He grabbed the plastic bag with his muddy clothes in one hand and his duffle bag in the other and headed out. Time to face the emotionally distraught music.

Dean stopped and stared in disbelief. Cas was sprawled on the bed clutching a little orange bottle. Fuck. He had left his jacket out there. He hadn't even thought of that. Fuck! He had volunteered to watch him and now Cas was just all high again and...Cas looked really still. Oh fuck. He dropped his stuff and padded over to the bed quickly. He put a hand to Cas's neck looking for a pulse.

"Dean?" Cas asked, his voice muddled and confused. He rolled his head towards Dean's touch.

Dean took his hand away. Thank fucking god. For a moment there... He pried the bottle of pills out of Cas's hand. He debated on throwing them out but what if these were the ones Cas had said were for depression...? Yeah. Cas would probably need those. He set the bottle on the table.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean went back over. Cas's hand shot out and grabbed at the material of his pants right at his knee. Dean jumped back startled. He didn't get far. Holy crap, Cas was strong.

"Stay?" Cas mumbled, his fingers still clenched into the fabric of Dean's pants.

"Kinda have to." Dean said trying to dislodge Cas's fingers from his pants. Sam had the impala after all, plus Cas had fingers like a vice when he felt like it.

Cas made a noise that sounded like he was confirming Dean's presence to himself. His hand dropped away. He smiled a little in his groggy mostly asleep state. He shifted across the bed leaving one side empty and curled into a ball.

Dean sat down on the other bed and watched Cas for a moment. Cas had just taken yet _another_ bunch of pills. He's earlier sympathy went out the window. What had future him been _thinking?_ How the hell had he seen this drug addicted mess and thought sending him to stop an apocalypse was a _good_ idea? He frowned at Cas's back....he didn't **_get_** it. There was _nothing_ about Cas he got (well except that Led Zeppelin rocked). He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He knew he wasn't being fair about this. From the few personal details Cas had told him it sounded like Cas had been on the ball for awhile at least. The drugs seemed to be a later addition to Cas's problems (and apparently he had a lot of problems). Dean just... _he didn't get it._ He didn't get why he'd send this guy back to stop the apocalypse when it was fast becoming obvious he could barely keep himself together. Future him was putting _Sam's life_ in this guy's hands?

Dean rubbed at his face and pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. Cas was what future him was betting Sam's life on? Dad's soul? His own freakin' soul? The whole freakin' world? Future him had sent the alcoholic drug abusing hippy to save them all? Oh fuck. They were all screwed. Everyone else got the magic sword or the James Bond car and he got the broken down hippy. Fuck. He dragged his hands down and rubbed at his face. What the hell was future him _thinking?_

Dean let his hands fall to his lap. He shook his head at this unknowable future him who was clearly a freakin' idiot and Cas who....well he shook his head at Cas. He swung his legs up on the bed and flopped down. He slipped his hands under his head and laid still thinking. He stared up at the ceiling; highly aware of the soft breathing a few feet away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Dean would have likely seen Serenity but not Firefly. Serenity would have just come out recently (North American release was September 30th 2005). I figure it would hit up Dean's penchant for scifi and westerns (and his enjoyment of thumbing it to authority) so of course he'd have seen it in theatres. Firefly on the other hand I think would be hard to watch as a nomad, especially considering the screwy schedule it was aired on.
> 
> Heather Donahue is the woman with the infamous crying scene in the Blair Witch Project that has been parodied about a million times.
> 
> Old Faithful - It's a geyser. It occurs to me that if you're not from North America you might not know that...or if you're not into hydrogeology.


	15. My heart feels like an alligator (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not really." Dean said picking up the orange bottle off the table. He shook it, "Don't know what he took but I got out of the shower and he was passed out on the bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mention of scars. They are NOT self-harm related.
> 
> Also, I don't think I mentioned it before but the title is a Fear and Loathing quote.
> 
> For those interested I post progress reports, research, notes, etc for this fic at [Brains for Baby Jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/). Anything related to this fic is tagged as Super Fiction Double Feature on my tumblr.

Sam rapped softly on the door. Dean let him in. He set a paper bag of take out on the table as Dean sat back down. Sam looked over to see Cas on the bed sleeping. He nodded at him, "Good to see he's getting some sleep after...everything."

"Not really." Dean said picking up the orange bottle off the table. He shook it, "Don't know what he took but I got out of the shower and he was passed out on the bed."

"Oh..." Sam frowned at the bottle. He didn't think Dean had missed anything but apparently Cas was good at hiding things. He looked down at the table. Dean's gun was still sitting there. "Should probably keep that in the impala tonight."

"Yeah." Dean said looking down at his gun. He didn't need Cas shooting him for real this time. He passed his gun over, then went around the bed to get the two unloaded Berettas. Better safe then sorry at this point. He gave them to Sam and after a second thought he gave Sam the bottle of pills too.

Sam took his coat off and wrapped the guns up. He'd rather not draw attention to himself at a shifty roadside motel while he was trying to get into Law School. "You think he's going to be out for the night?"

Dean shrugged. He had no idea what Cas took or how much. It could be another twenty minutes of peace or it could be hours.

"You want me to stay?" Sam asked. He really didn't want Jess in a room with Cas right now- who knew what Cas might do next at this rate- but he would if Dean didn't think he could handle Cas alone. Cas had genuinely tried to shoot them before his breakdown, that didn't bode well for personal safety. Especially if no one knew what Cas had taken before passing out.

Dean glanced at the bed where Cas was still softly breathing. He shook his head. "...nah. I'm good. He's usually pretty mellow at night anyway."

"You're sure?" Sam asked again. Cas really had looked ready for murder before he had broken down.

"Yeah....hey, grab some clothes for him from the trunk when you take that back to the car." Dean said. He had realized a little while ago that Cas was covered in mud from hanging onto him.

Sam studied his brother for a moment trying to figure out if Dean _really_ meant he'd be okay or if he meant he wasn't okay and needed some help. He decided on actually okay. He turned and headed for the impala.

Dean unpacked the take out. He groaned in relief when he saw three containers inside the paper bag. Two styrofoam and one clear plastic. Sweet blissful pie! At least today had pie, everything else about it was crap, but pie definitely made things better. He opened up the container with his burger and dug in. He let himself enjoy it (it wasn't the best he ever had but it was passable). He deserved it after today.

Sam knocked on the door not long after. No chance in hell was he ever just bursting into a hotel room with Cas in it ever again. Dean gave a yell that it was open. He turned the knob and stepped inside. His eyes darted over to Cas. No one would ever guess that Cas had looked ready to kill then completely broke down about an hour ago. Cas looked small and fragile curled up on the bed. His eyebrows came together in concern. Had Cas done all that because of the drugs or was all that apocalypse stuff a lot more true than he wanted it to be and Cas had had some kind of...flashback or something? He looked away as he set the keys and clothes down on the table. He hadn't found anything but jeans and shirts in the duffle bag so he had just grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt at random. He looked down at Dean concerned, "You're **sure**?"

"Yeah. Go comfort your woman." Dean said waving towards the other room. He took another bite of his burger.

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes at the comment before he headed for the door. He murmured a quick goodnight then stepped outside into a cloud of bugs. He closed the door and hurried back to Jess before he was eaten alive.

Dean was given the gift of silence as he enjoyed his burger. Cas hadn't budged since he had rolled over and curled up. As he finished off his fries he watched Cas (isn't it supposed to be creepy to stare at sleeping people?) and tried to work out what to say when he woke up. Did he chew him out for the pills? Did he explain how not cool it was to have someone point a gun at you? Did he talk about all the... _crying?_ Was he supposed to pretend that never happened? Did he just talk to him about that pending apocalypse? He grabbed the plastic container of pie. Pie would help settle matters.

Cas woke up to the sound of plastic crinkling and crunching. He felt like he had gone on a week long bender and wrapped it up with being run over by Dean's jeep. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He had tired to kill Dean. He had pointed a gun at Dean thinking it was loaded and pulled the trigger. Twice. He was probably the most dangerous thing in Dean's life right now. The plastic continued to crinkle and crunch. Dean was muttering to himself. Cas sat up slowly and looked over. He watched Dean in the yellow light of the motel. A slow crushing pain built up in his chest. Dean was trying to open a plastic container of _pie_. He had almost killed Dean and now Dean was going to eat pie. He slid his legs off the bed and got up. The first two steps he took wobbled but he made his way over to the table.

Dean flinched in surprise when Cas took the plastic devil contraption away from him. He hadn't noticed Cas getting up. He looked Cas over. There was no nice way to put it, Cas looked like a strung out wreck. There was muck all down his front, his face was still puffy and red from all the waterworks, and his hair was standing on end (okay maybe that part wasn't too different)....all things considered it could be worse.

Cas dropped down into the chair opposite Dean. He turned the plastic container around and popped it open. He slid the open container over to Dean.

Dean was still staring at Cas, he really did look like a wreck (sitting down hadn't helped). Dean's eyes slowly slid down to the pie. Cas had defeated the plastic container. His eyes shifted back up to Cas trying to figure out what to say.

Cas felt like he was drowning. [He knew that look](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4213176). Dean didn't trust him and why should he? He had just met him this week and he had tried to shoot him. Dean should be terrified of him. A tremble went through him as that slow crushing pain tightened in his chest (was that what a heart attack felt like?). He deserved every second of pain and discomfort he was in. He had tried to kill Dean about two hours ago. He realized he was staring and shifted his eyes to the pie. "Sorry....about earlier....you startled me."

Dean stared for a moment confused by the soft tone of Cas's voice and the apology he had uttered. Who just up and apologized for trying to kill someone? He waited to see if Cas was going to say anything else but that was it apparently. He grabbed the packaged plastic cutlery for the pie and started tearing the plastic wrapper off. "If that was you startled I don't wanna see what you do when you're waiting for someone."

Cas watched Dean's hands as he tore away the wrapper from the plastic fork and knife. He really had screwed this up already. He had decided this morning to stay and Dean— His chest felt like it was caving in again. He had left Dean behind to die alone. He had killed Dean this morning and then he had tried to do it again tonight.

Dean shoved the plastic fork into the pie then stopped. Cas was just sort of _sitting_ there. He wasn't staring at him, he wasn't saying anything, he was just _sitting_. He waited to see what Cas would do next but it looked like he was already doing it. He set the fork down and grabbed the clothes Sam had brought in. He dumped the keys off and passed the clothes over to Cas, "Here. Got you some clothes from the car."

Cas took the clothes. He pressed his eyes closed as that pain in his chest cracked straight through him. He had tried to kill this Dean and now Dean was trying to take care of him? He suppressed a sob that was threatening to escape his throat. That blissful angel emptiness had faded fast. He should have brought more pills with him on that last mission.

Now Dean _really_ didn't know what to do. Cas was just sitting there with his eyes closed. He frowned a little. He really didn't want to go through another crying episode, he just wanted to eat his pie. Was that too much to ask? He leaned down a bit to look Cas in the face when Cas's eyes fluttered open. "Hey, you're not gonna start— you're alright? ...right?"

Cas nodded but didn't say anything. He couldn't lie to save his life right now. He was anything but alright. He could feel the burn behind his eyes. It was going to happen again. Those horrible human tears were going to pour out of him again. Dear god, why was he always this broken? He fought to keep it from happening. He couldn't do that again in front of Dean (not _that_ broken, Fearless Leader).

Dean didn't believe it, not for a second. No one looked like that and was alright with the world. But what was he supposed to do about it? "Okay, why don't you- ah....wash up a bit and change? Then you should eat something. Sam brought you-" He stopped to open up the other styrofoam container, "-chicken fingers."

Cas looked down at his hands. They _were_ filthy. They had been covered in worse but it wasn't really a contest he cared to keep track of. Dean was right, he should really wash up and change. He stood up and headed for the bathroom. The shower held an added bonus; he couldn't breakdown again in front of Dean but if he was quiet the shower should mask the sound of crying.

Dean watched Cas slink away into the bathroom and close the door. The shower started running a few moments later. Dean relaxed and looked down at his pie. He brought his fork up trying to decide which end to start from when he heard a sharp sob from the bathroom. Dean jammed the fork into the pie and left it there. He couldn't eat pie knowing Cas was in the next room _crying_ again. He put his head in his hands, "Fuck."

\---

Dean glanced over at Cas quickly when he came out of the bathroom. There was no evidence of that second cry-fest. Alright, so he'd just pretend he didn't hear it. Cas obviously had wanted to do that in private (thank god) this time. He looked down to his uneaten pie then snapped his head back up to look at Cas. He stared at Cas's t-shirt and then looked down at his own. Either Cas just happened to have the exact same Metallica shirt or it _was_ the exact same Metallica shirt, just with a few new holes in it....that was down right freaky.

Cas froze when he came out of the bathroom. Dean had a look on his face _that he couldn't read._ He thought he knew every expression Dean's face could make but he didn't know that one. It drove it home that he had chosen to leave his Dean for dead in the present (future?). His arms snaked around himself. He bowed his head down and strode over to the table. He sat down. He didn't look at Dean.

Dean watched Cas sit down and rub self-consciously at those weird scars up and down his arms. He pushed the styrofoam container of chicken fingers and fries over at Cas. They sat and ate in silence. Well Dean ate. Cas stared at his food. Dean set his fork down after two bites of pie. He took in a deep breath then let it out. He tried to sound more nonchalant and less nagging old biddy, "You just going to stare at that? It doesn't get better cold."

Cas flicked a french fry that sat close to the edge of the container. He _really_ should have brought more pills with him on that last mission. He could use some downers right about now.

After a few more minutes of watching Cas alternate between rubbing at his exposed arms and moving his food around without eating it Dean stood up and went over to his bag. He dug out the dark grey hoodie that he only ever wore when he was hung over or sick as a dog (otherwise he wouldn't be caught dead in a hoodie). He tossed it at Cas.

Cas pulled the lump of cloth off his head and looked down at what he was holding. A sweater. [Dean was....](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4213350) He glanced up at Dean. Dean was carefully avoiding his eyes. Cas pulled the sweater on. He tugged it tight around himself.

Cas still wasn't eating. Dean sighed. He grabbed the plastic fork and started breaking what was left of the pie in half. He opened up the empty styrofoam container his burger had come in then scooped up half the pie. He plunked it down in the styrofoam then stuck the fork into the other half of the pie and pushed it over to Cas. Cas gave the pie a sad look. Dean pushed it closer, "Come on dude, no one can refuse pie."

Cas reached out hesitantly. He grasped the plastic container gingerly between two fingers and dragged it toward himself. He glanced up at Dean. Dean was already carefully trying to eat the other half of the pie with the plastic knife. The moment Cas touched the fork that now familiar feeling of his chest cracking open started again. How was he going to fix the Apocalypse if he was this broken? How was he supposed to save Dean when his first day trying to stop the Apocalypse had ended like this?

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye. He gave a slight nod of approval when Cas finally picked up the fork and took a bite of pie (see? Pie was irresistible). He waited for Cas to finish the half a piece of pie before talking. He didn't want to risk setting off another epic meltdown before the dude had finished eating. "So...today—"

"I don't want to talk about it." Cas said, cutting him off. He pulled at the sleeves of the sweater and hunched down in his seat. Short of Dean threatening to leave him behind he wasn't going to talk about almost killing him. If he still had the grace to do it, he'd erase that moment from _both_ their memories forever.

"Ah, well....okay we don't have to talk about-" Dean waved a hand towards the spot Cas had pinned him and cried for an unreasonable amount of time. He didn't particularly want to talk about that either, just thinking about it made him uncomfortable, " _-that_. But the Valium? Yeah, we're talking about that."

Cas hunched down even further. It was worse when Dean didn't yell. Yelling was easy, he could yell back. But disappointment? Concern? He never knew what to do with that. He knew he could never live up to the standards Dean set for himself.

Dean tried to think of a way to broach the subject tactfully but he couldn't figure out how to gently ask why the hell did you eat two packs of Valium? He went with straight forward, "What the hell happened today in the car?"

Cas shrugged. He pulled the styrofoam container of chicken fingers back over and picked out a french fry. He popped it in his mouth hoping eating would be a comprise over answering the question.

" _Cas_." Dean pressed when it started to become clear that Cas was trying to avoid talking by filling his mouth up with food (well at least he was eating something). "Come on dude, no one downs two packs of Valium just because. So come on, level with me, what happened? Why _do_ that?"

Cas winced at Dean's tone. He waited for Dean to start into how broken he was but it never came (wrong Dean). He pulled his arms in tighter. He shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know what to do or how to answer. He couldn't answer. The answer was somewhere in those four years of Apocalypse, "...no reason..."

Dean sighed. He leaned back in his chair. He knew he was going about this the wrong way but he didn't know how else to go about it. He closed his eyes and tried to figure out what the hell to do about Cas. He rubbed at his face. From the way Cas had flinched and tried to shrink into himself Dean figured direct wasn't going to work either. He sat up straight when he at least figured out where to start, "Alright, how about this, you still staying?"

"Yes." Cas said robotically chewing on half a french fry.

"I guess that means you're hanging around with us then." Dean said habitually including Sam in his statement even though he was pretty sure he wasn't going to get Sam to leave Jess. He wasn't sure how he was going to deal with that but hey, one problem at a time, right?

"Yes." Cas said and when Dean nodded, agreeing with him, he felt the pain in his chest loosen. He realized that a good portion of it was a fear of Dean leaving him again. He took an angry bite out of a chicken finger.

"Figured that." Dean said under his breath. He fixed Cas with what he hoped was a stern no bullshit stare, "Okay. If you're staying and hanging around we gotta lay some ground rules out. First? No more getting stoned out of your tree on a hunt."

Cas nodded. It was a reasonable request (wasn't that supposed to be a rule?). He didn't normally do that anyway. The past week had been... _stressful_ (not to mention the last four years).

"And before you try it, second is no getting drunk on a hunt either." Dean said firmly. Hunting was dangerous enough as it was, he didn't need Cas tagging along high or trashed or something. He paused for a moment to think. Those were really the only two rules he had thought of— "Rule three, quite freakin' staring at me all the time."

Cas looked up from his food and studied Dean. He didn't stare _all_ the time. He nodded again then dragged his eyes away from Dean and back to the chicken fingers. He pushed the container into the middle of the table.

Dean looked between Cas and the styrofoam container. It took him a second to realize that Cas wasn't refusing to eat, he was trying to share. Dean wasn't really hungry but he took a french fry anyway. He figured it was less about being hungry and more about trying to find some common ground. Besides if eating a couple of french fries got Cas to agree to the rules? Well it was a small price to pay.

They sat in silence and ate. Dean occasionally eating a fry when he noticed Cas had stopped eating; every time he did Cas would mechanically wolf down a whole chicken finger or handful of french fries. Something about that picked at the back of Dean's head but he couldn't put a name to it.

When the last chicken finger and french fry had been eaten (and Dean made sure it was Cas that ate them) Dean sat back and yawned. Today had been exhausting. There had been Cas to deal with all day, hours in a library, and a ghost that had stolen his car and tried to run him down with it (that bitch!). Dean gave Cas a once over. At least Cas looked as worn out as Dean felt. Dean pushed his chair back from the table. His muscles tensed ready to stand but he stopped. He relaxed back into the chair. He looked at Cas again. Cas didn't just look worn out he looked miserable. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, hesitating, not really sure what he was going to say, "We...ah....cool?"

Cas looked over, Dean looked unsettled and worried. A quick frown twitched across Cas's face; he knew he was the source of Dean's discomfort, "Yeah."

"Good." Dean said. He gave a sharp nod as he got up. He headed over to one of the beds (definitely not the one Cas had gotten muck all over) pulling his socks off as he went, "Good, because I gotta get some sleep- you should too. Today has been a long ass day."

Cas stood up slowly. He fiddled with the zipper on the sweater for a moment before he got it done up. He went over to the other (very empty) bed and pulled the muddy top sheet off. He laid down on top of the remaining blankets. He stared up at the ceiling. There was no chance in hell he was going to be able to sleep in _this_ hotel room.

Dean got into bed and turned the light out. Was he really going to just call it a night and go to sleep five feet away from Cas after today? He rolled his head back on the pillow. Yep, looked like that was exactly what he was going to do, "Hey Cas?"

Cas's heart clenched at the words in the dark. That was _Dean_. He gulped down the pain at the back of his throat and rubbed at his eyes, "Yes?"

"Gonna be good for a ghost hunt tomorrow?" Dean asked flipping over onto his stomach. He didn't think he'd talk Sam into going if it meant leaving Jess behind and he didn't think he could talk Sam into bringing her, not after being run off a bridge.

"Yeah." Cas said doing his best not to turn his head and stare. "I'll be fine."

Dean shook his head in the dark and did his best to stop the breathy sarcastic chuckle at Cas's choice in words. This whole crap shoot of a day had started off because they had both been fine with that lie. Cas was anything but fine but hopefully he'd be functional tomorrow, "Great."

Cas laid in the dark and stared at the ceiling. After everything that had happened today Dean wanted him as back up? He pressed his eyes closed. He listened to Dean breathe in the dark as he formulated a list of all the ways and reasons he would probably fail at stopping the Apocalypse a second time. It was a very long list.

\---

Sometime close to three in the morning Cas sat up. He still hadn't fallen asleep despite genuinely needing it after today. Dean had fallen asleep hours ago. He turned to watch the steady rise and fall of Dean's back. Each breath in confirmed what Cas needed to know, Dean was alive and well.

He slid over to the side of the bed. He set his feet on the floor and sat still. He studied the outline of Dean in the dark. A familiar ache went through him, not the pain of today, but a different pain, one that had had a year to fester. He desperately wanted to reach across the short distance between them and touch Dean– not in any particularly suggestive way. He just wanted one chaste touch. He'd give anything to feel Dean alive under his hand right now. He flexed his fingers and got up.

He made his way over to the table where Dean had left the car keys. He stopped to watch Dean, committing every detail to memory. He slipped out of the motel room a few moments later. He headed for the impala.

The night was cool and quiet. The parking lot was lit by a single streetlight and the light from the windows of the few other patrons of the motel who hadn't gone to sleep yet. Cas ran his hand over the impala before he pressed the key into the lock, every bump over the ridges of the key felt like a hammer hitting his chest. He opened the door and got in. He sat motionless for awhile. So this was it. Dean wasn't leaving him this time, he was leaving Dean. He was abandoning Dean. He was surprised at how calm he felt about that now but he supposed he had used up his quota of human emotions for the day. He sat still and breathed deeply for a few minutes and let it sink in. His eyes flicked up to the motel for a brief moment. He sighed.

Cas locked the doors and curled up on the backseat. If he was going to stay and help this Dean he needed to get some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed, Cas uses phrases such as go to hell, dear god, what the hell, etc etc. I think it's weird for an angel to use those phrases but after mulling it over I decided that Cas probably would use them since he's learned a more relaxed version of English from people who would be using those phrases. So there is a difference between Cas saying go to hell and go to Hell. Generally the capitalization should be a tip off that Cas is talking about the real deal vs using it as an expression.


	16. Good morning officer....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're going to get arrested, aren't we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's immediate conclusion makes me snicker. Oh Dean, why don't you want to trust the surly hippy from the future?
> 
> Some lines are ripped straight from the pilot.

Dean woke with his head buried under his pillow. He debated on just keeping it there forever. No. He had to find Dad....and deal with Cas. Augh. Had he really hugged it out with the _guy_ his future self was supposed to screwing? He rolled over and pulled the pillow off his face. He squinted at the daylight leaking in through the thin motel curtains. He glanced over at the other bed. It was empty. He sat up. The room was empty. He groaned, "Where did you go now?"

Dean got out of bed and grabbed his bag intent on getting dressed and going out to see if he could track down his favourite drug-abusing hippy. As he bent down and his eyes came level with the table something struck him as wrong. He stood up and stared for a moment trying to figure out what was...... _his keys!_ They weren't where he left them. He looked under the empty containers and paper bag and found nothing. He started digging through his jacket. They weren't there either. He looked on the floor. He checked his bag. The night stand. The dresser. The bathroom. Gone. His keys were gone....and Cas was gone. He punched the air, "Damn it Cas! _I knew it!_ I knew you were the one to mess up my car!"

He ripped his sleep clothes off and angrily dug through his bag, "This is going on the list of rules!"

"Do _not_ steal my car." Dean grumbled as he yanked his clothes on. He stuffed his things into his bag then headed for the door, only slowing to grab his phone off the table. He flung the door open and stomped outside. Maybe Cas had stolen his keys a few minutes ago. Maybe he hadn't taken off yet. He rounded the corner of the motel. The parking lot came into view....and so did his car. "What...?"

He stood there confused. Cas was gone. His keys were gone. But the car was still there? Maybe....Cas had just gone to get something from the back? Money or something? He really hoped it wasn't one of the half drunk bottles of liquor or more pills. He didn't want to deal with that shit today. But if that was the case, where the hell was Cas?

Low voices behind him made him turn around. The motel clerk was pointing at him; two deputies by his side. Son of a bitch. If it wasn't one thing it was another. Dean whipped out his phone. Sam better be awake or that law school nerd was getting a record.

"Dean?"

"Dude, five-oh, take off." Dean said glancing behind himself. The deputies were on their way over.

"What about you?"

"They kind of spotted me." Dean said as he started trying to casually walk away. "I left my stuff in the room and Cas is MIA. Car's in the lot. Find Dad."

"What—"

Dean snapped the phone closed and turned around. He grinned in the face of the law, "Problem officers?"

\---

"What's going on?" Jess asked as Sam sprang up from bed. She watched him go to the curtains and ease them aside half an inch. He swore. Well that couldn't be good. Jess flung the covers off herself and got up to look. Her face fell. She _knew_ it. They were going to be arrested for impersonating officers of the law.

Sam grabbed Jess's shoulders and steered her towards their bag. "We gotta go."

"We're going to get arrested, aren't we?" Jess said slipping out of Sam's grasp. She unzipped the bag and grabbed the first pair of pants her hands touched. She pulled them on over her pyjama shorts. Sam still hadn't responded. She pulled a shirt on. "We're getting arrested."

"What? No." Sam said sounding a little too reassuringly bright about it. He dug through their bag and got dressed. He did a quick scan of the room to see if Dad had left anything important behind. He grabbed a folder of notes and clippings about the case Dad had been working and shoved it into their bag.

Jess stood near the window watching the police. "They're stuffing your brother into the back of a police car."

Sam gave a dismissive wave of his hand, that was nothing new. "He'll be fine."

Jess gave him an skeptical arch of the eyebrow.

Sam grabbed their bag and went to the door. "Are they looking?"

"No."

Sam cracked the door open and took a look. The cops were still busy shoving Dean into the back of the car. Dean, of course, was taunting them from the look of it. Sam turned to Jess, "Okay, I'm going to run in and grab Dean's stuff. You head down the street to that diner we were at yesterday. I'll meet you there with the car in a few minutes."

"What? What am I supposed to do if you get arrested?" Jess asked. Her forehead wrinkled in concern. Between ghosts trying to run him down and getting in trouble with the police she understood why Sam had tried to get away from the life his family wanted him to live. She took another peak through the window. She hadn't started this week thinking that she'd be dodging the police by the end of it. Mostly she had just been waiting for the next Harry Potter movie to hit theatres.

"I'll be fine. I swear." Sam pulled Jess into a hug and kissed the top of her head. He looked down and shrunk back. Jess wasn't having it, she was giving him _the look_. He scratched at his head. They really didn't have time for a better explanation. "Just....trust me on this okay?"

Jess chewed at her cheek. She looked at the door then back to Sam. He gave her the big sad eyes. She rolled her own. That so did not work on her anymore....alright maybe a little, "Okay— But don't think that means I'm going to write to you in prison. "

Sam huffed a laugh and grinned. He nodded in agreement then opened the door. He slipped out; Jess right behind him. He waved her on, checking to make sure the cops still weren't looking.

Jess grabbed Sam's hand and gave it a brief squeeze before she took off as fast as she could without running. How did people in movies make it look natural when they ran away from the cops? She was going to have to watch some Bonnie and Clyde movies– wait. Bonnie and Clyde went down in a hail of gunfire....

Sam moved as quickly as he could. He strode over to room eleven and tried the doorknob. He breathed in relief. Thank god Dean had left it unlocked. He darted into the room and grabbed Dean's bag and jacket. He turned back to the door, opening it a sliver to check on the police before he slipped back out and made his way to the impala.

He made it half way to the car before he realized Dean probably had the keys on him. Shit. He'd have to break into the car and hot-wire it. Dean was going to be pissed. He stooped down to grab a good sized rock before he came up to the impala. He tossed the bags down and dropped Dean's jacket on top of them. He wound up his arm.

\---

Cas was deep in sleep. As usual he was having a nightmare. He always had nightmares when he slept outside of Camp Chitaqua, even if he was sleeping in the impala where it was safe, which was actually the only place he did sleep outside of Camp Chitaqua. He had nightmares when he slept _inside_ Camp Chitaqua too but at least that was only most nights and not every night. The nightmare in question was the usual one. Dean and Sam tearing themselves apart. The loss of his wings. Bobby turning into a monster. It was all so familiar, he might as well be home in Heaven.

A crash made Cas sit bolt upright. His hand shot down to the side of his leg and found nothing, not even an empty thigh strap. An arm reached through the broken window. Where the fuck was his blade!? He scrambled to the other side of the car, his eyes darting everywhere for a weapon. Why didn't he have a fucking gun!?

He reached behind himself to pull at the door handle while keeping an eye on the broken window. He was ready to kick in the face of whatever put its ugly head through that window. He got the door open and tumbled out to the ground.

"Cas?"

Cas froze at the sound of that voice (fuck! Lucifer!). The last week came tumbling back. He stood up slowly. Sam stared at him across the roof of the impala. He eyed him cautiously in case it was all some drug induced hallucination, "Sam?"

"What're—" Sam took Cas in quickly. He looked like a spooked rabbit....in Dean's clothes? Had they....? He shook his head. He didn't have time to wonder about Dean's future conquests. He put his hand out, "You have the keys?"

"Yeah." Cas fished the keys out of his pocket. He tossed them to Sam. "What's going on?"

"The cops picked up Dean." Sam said grabbing the bags and Dean's jacket off the ground. Dean was going to be royally pissed he had broken the window for no reason. He hurried around to the trunk. Maybe he'd just forget to mention that Cas was in the car....

 _"What?"_ Cas asked as an old panic bubbled up from his stomach- it was familiar but the Apocalypse made all panic familiar- it was joined with a flash of rage. [**Nobody** took Dean](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4306074). "When? Which way did they go?"

"Couple of minutes ago. They're probably still around front." Sam said as he unlocked the trunk and opened it up. He dumped the bags in.

Cas saw his blade laying on top of the enormous duffle bag Dean had sent him with. He snatched it up just before Sam closed the trunk.

"What're you doing with that?" Sam asked, wary. Cas had a determined look on his face that he didn't think would bode well for things running smoothly.

Cas ignored him. He started towards the motel.

Sam's eyes went wide when his brain put the pieces together. _Shit._ He jogged after Cas and grabbed his arm, " _Cas._ You can't just go over there and—"

Cas shook Sam off and kept his course.

Sam stumbled backward, nearly falling to the ground. He had _not_ expected Cas to be able to just knock him around like that. Cas looked underfed and scrawny in clothes just a little to big for him. It was deceiving.

Sam got his feet under himself and looked between the impala and Cas. Cas disappeared around the corner. **Shit.** He clenched the keys in his hands. He got in the car. Going after Cas would just get them all arrested and he had Jess to think about. Hopefully Cas wouldn't cause too much trouble. Hopefully he'd figure out this ghost hunt pretty quick- hopefully it would lead him to Dad soon after and he could swear off hunting forever. Again- and then he'd go take a few shots at a barn or something and call in a fake 911 call over it. Hopefully Dean would take the opportunity and he wouldn't have to bail him out of jail. And hopefully Jess wouldn't call it quits after this ridiculous road show he had dragged her on.

....he sure was trusting a lot to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References  
> The Harry Potter movie Jess was referring to is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire which would have come out in about two weeks for them.


	17. Ghost cops and real cops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lines are ripped right from the pilot.
> 
> [Brains for baby jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/) is where I post progress reports, notes, research etc about this fic and anything else I work on. If you're wondering how an update is coming along there will probably be something there about it.

Jess felt a wave of relief when Sam walked into the diner half an hour later. She had begun to worry she'd have to start contacting lawyers and putting together bail money. It seemed like every time she turned around since last night she was having a new appreciation as to why Sam didn't talk about his family very much and why he wanted out of this kind of life.

Sam sat down across from here. He swept his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, then studied Jess. "You okay?"

"Well I haven't been arrested yet." Jess said. She picked up her spoon off the table and stuck it in her coffee to stir it yet again. She set the spoon down and didn't drink the coffee. She was too worried about herself and Sam to drink it, beyond the practical problems of being arrested they were both planning careers that wouldn't go well with criminal records. "What're we going to do now?"

Sam hesitated. He was torn between saying that they were packing up and going home because this was _exactly_ the kind of thing he had spent years trying to get away from, and saying that he needed to stay and help Dean to find Dad and figure out if what Cas had been saying about the future was true and that they needed to figure out this ghost hunt while they were at it.

Jess saw the wheels turn in Sam's head, he had on that intense express he always got when he was pouring over a textbook. She knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth. She glanced out the window, maybe she should just get on a bus and go home before the cops found them...or a ghost....or a ghost cop. Oh god, what had her life come to over the past couple of days? She looked back to Sam- gigantic goofy gentle-eyed Sam who apparently grew up hunting ghosts and monsters- he was still deep in thought even though she was fairly certain he already knew what he was going to do...and for some insane reason she was going to go along with it.

"....I need to stay. Dean's right, this isn't one of Dad's regular disappearing acts. Something's wrong."

And there it was, just like she thought it would be.

"....you don't _have_ to stay, you can...go..." Sam said. He realized that what he said might sound like an ultimatum, stay with the people who knew about monsters or go on your own when something might be after you. He quickly added more, "I mean I know Cas told us something was after you. I can make sure you're safe and then come back and figure this out on my own."

It was Jess's turn to hesitate, that was a very tempting offer, and they were probably going to get arrested or run over by a ghost in a car but....it was Sam and _they_ hadn't done anything illegal, not exactly at least, and the ghost didn't seem to be after her... She looked up at Sam. He was doing his big sad eyes again, "Oh come on, you big dork, like I'm gonna let you run off and fight ghost cops alone? What kind of girlfriend would I be?"

"Ghost cops?"

\---

Cas rounded the corner just in time to see a police car drive away, the back of Dean's head clearly outlined in the rear window. A flicker of a self deprecating smirk played on his lips, _of course_ he'd be able to tell it was the back of Dean's head in that car from fifty feet away. If Dean's obsession had been the Colt all these years his obsession had been Dean.

He watched the police car disappear down the street. It was probably for the best. He had marched over here ready to do anything but he couldn't anymore, could he? This wasn't the Apocalypse where he was large and in charge and, unless Dean vetoed him, his word suggestion and law rolled into one. No, this was 2005. He wasn't anything here (wasn't that always the truth?). He couldn't just stab his way in and take Dean back. Those cops weren't out to shoot them as looters, they weren't a rival group trying to kill them first, and they weren't croats, they were just....people.

He let out a loud huff then slipped his blade under the sweater he wore and tucked it into the waist of his pants. He turned around, intent on finding a car to hot wire so he could— _his jacket!_ He froze. His jacket was still in that motel room. Ice crept through his chest. That was.....Dean had.....he _needed_ it. He **_needed_** that back.

He spun around and started off in the other direction. He'd loop around and come up from the other side. The trees in the parking lot should be enough to hide him.

It didn't take long for him to find a safe vantage point. Millennia of being a soldier and four years of practical learning of how best to evade humans when you were one of them had its advantages. He watched the remaining police- just two- glean through the motel room taking his clothing and jacket, along with the trash from dinner, away in clear plastic bags. Evidence (he had seen enough cop movies). His jacket would be going to the police station with Dean. He watched to make sure his jacket was loaded into the remaining police car before he slipped away. He still hadn't formulated a plan but he suspected a good place to start would be getting a car.

\---

"Okay, just follow my lead." Sam said as they walked up to the house, Jess following close beside him. He knocked on the door. He tired to give Jess a reassuring smile but he was sure it came out as more of a grimace. This was a terrible idea. He hadn't wanted to get back into hunting and now he was getting Jess involved. He should have found somewhere to hide her while he tracked down Dad. The door swung open. A weathered looking man in a baseball cap stood in the open door. Sam plastered on a fake smile, "Hi...ah...are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah." Joseph looked between Sam and Jess. He frowned with suspicion, "Who wants to know?"

Sam dug out a photo from his pocket, it was of him and Dean with Dad. He had noticed it last night. It came in handy now. He passed the picture over to Joseph, "Did this man come by here recently?"

Joseph's left eye narrowed slightly at Sam. He looked at the photo, "Yeah, he was older, but that's him."

Jess smiled brightly when Joseph looked at her again. She hoped it came off as innocent instead of crushingly guilty. How did Sam just go up to complete strangers and lie to them?

Joseph narrowed both eyes at Jess before he turned back to Sam, "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right. We're working on a story together." Sam said. He glanced over at Jess. Three reporters for one story? He scrambled for a better explanation, "We're his interns. We're...ah...fact checking."

"Fact checking?" Joseph asked, clearly skeptical of yet more strangers showing interest in his deceased wife.

"Yes. There was some confusion over where your wife was buried." Sam said.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" Joseph asked.

"We're very sorry to bring this up a second time." Jess jumped in when it looked like Joseph was going to tell them off, "We just want to make sure everything is in correct order to best honour your wife's memory."

Sam glanced sideways at Jess quickly. That had sounded genuinely believable. It was surprising.

Joseph studied Jess for a moment before his face softened, "....she's in a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"Thank you." Jess said.

There was a long pause. Joseph shifted uncomfortably and looked off into the distance clearly remembering a different time. He looked back at Jess, "That all you need?"

Jess opened her mouth to answer then realized she didn't know what they might need from Joseph Welch. She glanced at Sam. He gave a brief nod, she looked back to Joseph, "Yes. Thank you again for your time....we're very sorry for your loss."

"Yeah, Constance...she was the love of my life." Joseph said before giving a sharp nod goodbye and shuffling back to his house.

Jess started back to the car, Sam caught up to her. He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow, "You were pretty good at that."

"That's not something I want to be good at." Jess said getting in the car. Lying to a widower so that they could dig up his dead wife made her stomach churn but if that was the only way to stop Constance from hurting more people she guessed it could be justified...maybe. It still felt wrong.

\---

Cas sat in a stolen car across from the police station and gripped the steering wheel. He had waited for the cops from the motel to arrive and had watched them cart boxes and bags from their car into the station. Once they were done no one else came or went. What did he do now?

His earlier strategy- tear the place apart- was looking very attractive again. This was new and foreign and he didn't like it. He leaned forward to get a better looked at the station. He tapped a finger on the steering wheel. How was he going to do this? Prior to the Apocalypse something as simple as the police would have been a laughable obstacle to get past. Afterwards sheer brute force was acceptable; often the only way. But this wasn't the Apocalypse and he wasn't much of an angel so options A and B were useless. Well, option B wasn't _useless_ just impractical since he planned on staying in this time.

The station was small and there were only the two police cars in the parking lot along with a truck. There couldn't be very many people inside. It was a small town. How many cops could possibly be in there? Three or four? At least three. Three or four he could deal with easily but what if there were more?

He let out an annoyed snort. This was Dean's fault. He had just been getting used to being on his own again in the middle of the Apocalypse and then Dean had to go and screw it up by sending him back to 2005 to bust his younger self out of a small town drunk tank. He swore affectionately at the Dean he had left behind.

Maybe if he just went in and tried to explain everything away as a misunderstanding? Impersonating law enforcement couldn't be that serious of a crime, could it? He tried to call up what he knew about Dean and Sam posing as the FBI. He knew they never wanted to get caught doing it but couldn't remember what the ramifications would have been if they had gotten caught. He wasn't even sure if Dean had ever explicitly explained it to him. He twisted his hands around the steering wheel, "Fuck, at this rate I might as well just go in and ask nicely for them to hand him back."

He laughed quietly to himself. Dean would probably be laughing his ass off if he could see this. There he was sitting in a stolen Sunfire across from the police station staring at the building like his old angelic self trying to figure out how to ask the cops for Dean. Yes, Dean would be laughing right about now. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at a Dean that wasn't present, "You know damn well, Fearless Leader, that I was never any good at talking to cops."

His eyes flicked between the parking lot and the station. How many cops could possibly be in there? He stared at the station for a few more moments then made up his mind. He made sure his blade was still snug against his back then kicked the car door open. There was only one way to find out how many cops were inside. He'd figure out what he'd do about it once he was in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the previous chapter were originally one chapter but I split them because....I don't know. I just did.


	18. This is what crazy people do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't sure if the situation was as funny as it seemed or if he had finally just blown a fuse when it came to Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lines are ripped right from the pilot.
> 
> ***Warning for some symptoms of withdrawal***  
> It's not graphic or anything, I just thought it would be best to give a warning.

"Now. You're stayin' right here—" The sheriff snapped his eyes to the door at the sound of a crash.

There was a thump that Dean recognized as someone hitting a wall hard (he's had enough experience in that department). The sheriff turned back to Dean and quickly handcuffed him to the table. "Don't go anywhere."

Dean gave the Columbo wannbe a sarcastic smile for his efforts at humour. The sheriff dashed out into the main part of the station, too focused on the sounds of a fight to remember to close the door. Dean took the opportunity to grab a paperclip out of Dad's journal. There was another crash and some muted voices....was that....was that _Cas?_ Freakin' hell. Dean leaned back in his chair and muttered why? at the ceiling.

Dean stared at the open doorway. There was another crash and a yell. That couldn't be good. He was getting more and more worried that Cas was doing something... _insane_. Freakin' hell Cas better not be murdering a bunch of cops. _Fuck_. Cas had burst out of a motel room closet with a _submachine gun_. He probably _was_ murdering a bunch of cops. **Fuck!** They were going to end up on the FBI's most wanted list. What the hell was he going to do if Cas landed them on the FBI's most wanted list? Dean hurried to unbend the paperclip. Maybe if he was fast enough and got himself out of there he'd be in time to try and talk Cas down. He listened to the voices in the other room as he worked on freeing himself.

"Drop the weapon."

"No."

"Quit playing games and drop the weapon. Now."

"I'm glad we agree, on one thing, I'm not here to play games."

Dean bit his tongue as he twisted the paperclip around in the keyhole. He could hear a the thumps and grunts of scuffle from the other room, thankfully no gunshots. A loud crash seemed to signal the end. It went silent out there. That couldn't be good. Silent as the grave was a saying for a reason. He worked faster at the handcuffs.

\---

Cas pulled the hood of the sweater he wore out from under his jacket as he strode into the backroom. Relief sang through him when he got to an open door at the end of the hall and found Dean sitting at table on the other side of it. When he had walked into the police station for a brief moment he had worried he was hallucinating the whole thing. Fear had shot through him. He had been terrified that he was going to find out the police were actually demons and that there would be croats waiting inside. That he'd be too late to save Dean but [just in time to watch](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4518156) them— He shook his head. It wasn't a hallucination. Dean was sitting in a chair handcuffed to a table staring at him like only Dean could. "Hello Dean."

"What'd you do Cas?" Dean demanded. He didn't see any blood on Cas. That was good, right? How much harm could Cas do without a gun?

Cas furrowed his eyebrows at him puzzled and confused. He hadn't done anything to merit _that_ tone of voice. That was Dean's _I'm angry and disappointed at how badly you screwed up_ tone of voice. His tongue shot out to lick his lips. A mild anxiety started creeping around in the corners of his mind. What had he done to merit that tone of voice? He had come to _rescue_ Dean. How had he....he shook his head and went to Dean. He had come to rescue Dean. That was enough.

"You didn't...?" Dean trailed off. Either Cas was just completely did not give a rat's ass about killing people (in which case, holy fucking god! Oh fuck! He had slept alone in a room with that psycho!) or he hadn't gone on a rampage. Dean really hoped it was the latter.

"Didn't what?" Cas asked taking the paperclip from Dean. He should have thought to check the cops for keys when he had dealt with each of them. No wonder why Dean was looking at him like that. He started picking the lock with the paperclip.

"You know." Dean made a cutthroat motion with his free hand.

"No." Cas said flicking his eyes up for a moment. Dean still looked annoyed with him. He pushed and twisted the paperclip in the lock. "It may have been.....a passing notion."

Dean watched as Cas picked the lock, scowling at it the whole time. The dude was lucky looks didn't kill. The handcuff fell open a few moments later. Cas muttered something about being sorry it took so long. Dean just shook his head. He didn't need his favourite drug abusing hippy to spring him from jail but it wasn't like he'd say no to some help...well he would if it involved mass murder.

Dean grabbed Dad's journal and headed out to the main office of the station, Cas following behind him. He was greeted by four police officers tied to chairs and facing the wall. Two looked unconscious, one looked like he was coming around, while the last one was twisting his head around looking pissed. That was....impressive. How had Cas fought four guys and manage to tie them up? He glanced over his shoulder at Cas with a new appreciation of how dangerous the dude could be. If future him was really real he was starting to see why he'd keep a drug abusing alcoholic hippy around (he still didn't get the gay part). Dean tore his eyes away and headed for the exit.

Cas grabbed Dean's shoulder before he got too far ahead. Dean turned around looking confused and worried. He had really screwed this whole rescue up, hadn't he? Well if that was the case he'd at least get this part right. Cas nodded to the boxes and bags cluttered around one of the desks. "We should probably take that with us."

Dean looked over. Cas was nodding at the pile of evidence that the cops had grabbed from Dad's room. He nodded in agreement. There might be something in there that would explain the co-ordinates in Dad's journal or lead to find Dad and there was no good reason to make it easy for the cops to follow them. "Good idea."

A long sigh of relief escaped Cas, maybe he hadn't screwed this up as badly as he thought he had. He picked up the nearest box and stacked it on top of another. He heaved them up.

"Dude, lift with your legs." Dean said looking over the boxes. How were they going to carry all of Dad's stuff out of here? "...Sam's outside right?"

"No. I'm not sure where he is." Cas hadn't bothered to ask and hadn't really cared at the time now he realized his mistake. This Dean would be worried about Sam because Sam was still Sam right now.

"How'd you get here?" Dean asked. He glanced around the room for his phone. Eventually he spied it on a desk with the placard: Sheriff Pierce. He glanced over to Sheriff Pierce, tied up and passed out (don't go anywhere Sheriff). A cocky grin sprung up on his face at the poetic justice of it all. He grabbed his phone.

"I stole a car." Cas said. He started making his way to the door. They could fill the stolen car up and then find Sam. He could fix this. He could make it work....who was he kidding? This wasn't going to work. It didn't help that Dean kept looking at him like...well like that.

It took Dean a moment to process what Cas had said. He stared at Cas blankly. Cas had...Cas had stolen a car, driven it to a police station, beaten the crap out of four cops, tied them up, and all to spring him from jail? And now they were stealing evidence? He burst out laughing. He wasn't sure if the situation was as funny as it seemed or if he had finally just blown a fuse when it came to Cas.

\---

The house made the whole thing even sadder. Jess could imagine what it must have looked like when it had been cared for and filled with a happy family...and now they were digging up a dead woman out back.

Sam tossed up another shovelful of dirt. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He grimaced as he felt dirt smear across his head. He didn't remember digging graves being this exhausting. He really had to get back in shape. He glanced up at Jess still surprised that she had come along and hadn't taken off screaming yet. He frowned. He hadn't wanted Jess to even _know_ about ghosts let alone help him hunt one. He took a deep breath and let it out before going back to digging.

A muffled chime came from Sam's discarded jacket. Jess bent down and went through the pockets. Sam nodded at her to answer. She accepted the call, "Hello?"

"Sam?"

"Do I sound like Sam?" Jess said.

"Well he does talk like a girl sometimes."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Is this your one phone call?"

"Nope. Got that sorted out. Put Sam on."

Jess held the phone out to Sam, "It's your brother."

Sam wiped his hand on his pants before taking the phone. Dean ran down the list of what had happened, ending it by saying that Dad had taken off in the middle of the case but had left some co-ordinates to follow. Sam went over the Constance hunt quickly. They agreed on a meet up location then Dean hung up. Sam passed the phone up to Jess. "We're going to finish up here then meet up with Dean and Cas."

"Dean found Cas?" Jess asked taking the phone. She put it back in Sam's coat.

"More like Cas found him." Sam said. He started digging again.

Jess arched an eyebrow at the evasion, "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not." Sam said. He pushed the shovel into the ground but this time he came up short. Finally! He started scraping away the dirt. The lid of the coffin slowly came into view. He brought the shovel up to smash the lid in then thought better. He turned to Jess, "Umm....you might not want to watch this part."

"I think you might be right." Jess said. She looked down at the coffin Sam was standing on then backed up until she couldn't see it anymore. She winced when Sam started bashing the lid in. A few moments later Sam climbed out of the grave. Jess looked over mildly curious and a lot disgusted. They were digging up some poor woman's grave....in broad daylight. How had the cops not noticed that yet? She looked back to Sam, "Now what?"

"Now the banishing part." Sam said. He headed back to the impala and dug out lighter fluid, salt, and matches.

Jess watched with a look of increasing horror as her boyfriend proceeded to pour lighter fluid and salt on the grave and set it on fire. _Holy crap_.

Sam glanced over at Jess. He ran his hand through his hair and looked down, "Ah...yeah...sorry this looks...."

"Crazy?" Jess suggested.

"Yeah....it does look kind of crazy." Sam suspected there was going to be a long more detailed conversation about what his family did in the near future and he wasn't sure how Jess was going to take it. He had been keeping it vague. Sure he had told her everything about women in white and ghosts but he had glossed over the digging up bodies part. He frowned when he thought about trying to tell Jess about other monsters. How was he supposed to tell her that he had hunted and killed things that looked, walked, talked, and acted like a human being when it wasn't being a monster?

Jess watched as Sam filled in the grave once it had burned for a few minutes. She had half expected Constance to show up again but maybe ghosts only came out at night? Once the grave was covered Sam put everything back in the car. She grabbed his jacket off the ground and tossed it into the car. She went around to the passenger side and got in. Sam got in a moment later. They sat silently for a moment before Jess spoke, "This has been really crazy, like on the road to Patrick Bateman crazy."

"Well I'm not really into designer clothes." Sam said trying to lighten the mood. He got a dismayed look from Jess. Yeah....that probably wasn't the time for a joke. He stuck the key in the ignition and started the car. He opened his mouth then snapped it shut. What was he supposed to say about burning a corpse that didn't make it sound crazier than it already was?

\---

Dean scrambled to pull his seatbelt on as Cas rounded a corner. They were doing 50miles/hour around what Dean swore were 90 degree turns. He clutched at the seat of the car. Cas whipped through another intersection. Dean cringed, "That was a stop sign!"

"So?" Cas said. He took one hand from the steering wheel to quickly wipe the sweat from his palm. "Not like there was anyone around."

"Jesus christ!" Dean yelped as Cas blew through a red light next. "Who taught you how to drive?!"

"[I taught me how to drive](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4518171)." Cas chuckled. He licked his lips and grinned, "And you hated every minute of it."

"I can see why." Dean said his voice going high with fear. He was pretty sure his heart was going to stop any second now, that or they were going to crash. Dean didn't have a problem with driving fast but this was insane. They were going to get pulled over by the...cops....who were tied up back at the police station. Right. Well at least they didn't have to worry about that....just the highway patrol and they would hopefully meet up with Sam before they had to think about that then Dean was getting into the impala and never letting Cas drive again. "Didn't future me ever teach you the rules of the road?"

"It was the Apocalypse. Stops signs weren't our top priority." Cas said. He took his other hand off the steering wheel this time and rubbed it vigorously on his pants. He glanced over at Dean. Dean was pressed back into his seat with that look again. His face fell. He felt a little nauseous. He flicked his eyes back to the road. Dear god why couldn't he get this right?

Dean caught sight of the barn he had told Sam to meet them at. He pointed to it up ahead, "There. Pull in there."

Cas heard the unsaid, _because you're terrible at driving and you fail at everything_ , he slowed down and pulled into the laneway that lead to the barn. He stopped the car behind the dilapidated barn. He parked and turned the car off. He sat still except for a couple of subtle tremors that ran through him.

Dean scrambled to get out of the car. His feet hit ground. Sweet jesus! Solid ground! If Cas was sticking around there would definitely be no more driving for Cas. He took a few breaths of air and thanked god he was still alive. He heard a car door open and close then footsteps behind him. He took another couple of breaths before he turned— "Holy crap! Don't do that!"

That anxiety that had been eating at him since he had found Dean crushed in a little tighter around his chest. Cas stepped back from Dean. He hadn't been....he hadn't been _that_ close. Had he? He just wanted to....he tapped his fingers against his leg. What the hell was wrong with him now? Why was there always something wrong with him? Why did he always make Dean look at him like that? Cas retreated to the other side of the car. Would that be enough personal space?

Dean eyed Cas suspiciously. The way Cas was rocking back and forth on his feet, drumming his fingers on the car, and flicking his eyes back and forth between the roof of the car and Dean were setting little warning bells off in Dean's head. Was Cas...? Oh shit. Cas was totally drying out wasn't he? Jesus, the guy was in deep with the drugs and booze if a day without was making him sketch out. He opened his mouth to ask if Cas was okay but Cas started blurting out a disjointed apology.

"I'm sorry. About last night and the police station and the driving. I didn't– Dean, you were the only thing I had left back-" Cas motioned to his past nervously. Oh god, what if Dean left him behind? What if _both_ Dean's sent him away? A tremor went through his core, "Please don't– I didn't.....I'm sorry about last night. You....you're....Dean, you're all the family I have left."

Dean stared for a moment trying to sort out what Cas had actually said in all that rambling. There were a couple of sorrys in the there but he thought he probably wasn't getting the full explanation behind what Cas was saying. He studied Cas as the dude shivered and fidgeted. He felt his shoulders sink. As much as he wanted to make a joke about this, because it would be so easy to rip on him right now, he couldn't do it. Not when someone looked like that and they were trying so hard to say sorry and then Cas had to go and throw out the big F word: Family. Dean sighed, "It's cool dude. We're good. No more chick flick moments. Okay?"

Before Cas could answer the impala pulled into the laneway. Cas stayed frozen where he was but just seeing the impala was starting to calm him down. The impala was safe. Dean had said so. He just had to wait. He was an angel...well a mortal angel (and not a very good one at that). He could wait. He had waited for thousands of years. He could wait five more minutes.

Dean gave Cas one last look before going over to the impala. Sam was already getting out, he was covered in dirt. Jess looked...off. Apparently ghost hunting didn't agree with her. He gave Sam a slap on the shoulder, "Well at least you didn't forget how to hunt a ghost when you ran away."

"I didn't run away." Sam retorted. "I just went to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone."

Dean eased back on his feet. That was pretty grouchy, it wasn't like Sam was the one who had been arrested. He looked between Sam and Jess again and got the drift something was going on there. Oookay. He'd just keep his nose out of that one. He turned to Cas instead, "Hey Cas? Keys!"

Cas dug the keys out of his pocket and threw them to Dean. He stayed where he was while Dean explained to Sam what they had in the trunk of the stolen car. His heart started to pick up speed and _finally_ he realized what was going on. He took a deep breath and held it for five seconds then let it out. He counted another five seconds before breathing in. He stood still and breathed until he felt his heart slowing down. He still felt jittery and nervous and a little nauseous and his hands wouldn't stop sweating but at least he knew why now. If someone had told him when he started taking, well... _everything_ , just how horrible it was when you ran out he would've— who was he trying to kid? He would have done it any way.

Jess opened the trunk of the impala while Sam and his brother hauled boxes out of what she was assuming was a stolen car. So much for not doing anything illegal. She had aided Sam in digging up a corpse and now she was helping them steal evidence from the police. She frowned as she watched Sam and Dean. Cas brushed past her and started digging around in that huge bag he had in the trunk. Her eyes went wide when she saw that he was grabbing that bottle of pills and a bottle of booze. "Hey, ah, Cas, maybe you should...just let me take those...."

Cas turned away from her. He poured the few pills he had left into his hand. He picked out the ones that would react badly together and dropped them back into the prescription bottle. The rest he poured into his mouth. He swallowed them with a gulp of liquor, then on second thought drained the rest of the bottle. He tossed the empty liquor bottle aside and gave Jess the pill bottle then bee lined for the car. He opened the door, got in, and leaned back. He let out a long sigh. He could do this. He just had to sit and wait and it would be over soon. It always was.

"What was that about?" Sam asked as he plunked down two boxes full of Dad's research.

Jess held out the orange bottle, "He took a couple of things from there, chased it with that Everclear stuff, then got in the car."

"I think he's getting the shakes." Dean said dropping the other box and a couple of bags into the trunk. He knew how many pills were left in that bottle. He didn't think it would be enough to get Cas high again but hopefully it would be enough to let the dude hold it together.

"The shakes?" Jess asked. She tucked the pill bottle into the oversized duffle bag.

"Withdrawing." Dean explained. He glanced at the rear window. Cas's mop of messy hair was all he could see of him. Cas was going to have a rough time over the next couple of days. Dean did not envy him. Withdrawal sucked.

"Maybe you should...uh...sit in the back with him...?" Sam suggested to Dean. He didn't like the idea of Cas on drugs in the car after last night. What if he freaked out and grabbed the wheel or something? "Make sure he doesn't...ah...get worked up?"

"What? No way. Why me?" Dean spluttered. He felt sorry for the guy but he didn't feel _that_ sorry for him. He didn't want to _sit_ with him.

Sam tried to shrug innocently. He still wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Cas was wearing Dean's clothes. He wouldn't think anything of it if it weren't for what was on that list. "He seems to umm....like you more?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. Was Sam implying what he thought he was implying? Because he was pretty sure they had discussed how much that _wasn't_ happening. Buses to Alaska may have been mentioned.

Sam could see the refusal about to leave Dean's lips. He quickly tacked on, "And if we get pulled over the cops are more likely to recognize you, since you were the one that got _arrested."_

Dean felt his shoulders slowly loosen. He looked at the car then back at Sam. He groaned. God he hated it when Sam was right. He closed the trunk and went around to the side of the car. He got in the backseat. It felt... _wrong_. He didn't sit in the back. Not unless he was bleeding and unconscious and Dad was driving the car...and okay maybe Sam that one time. He looked over at Cas. Cas turned and opened one eye at him. Cas took him in then rolled his head back and closed his eyes. Well at least the hippy wasn't staring at him anymore.

A moment later, Jess was sliding into the passenger seat and Sam was getting in on the driver's side. The silent tension between everyone was thick enough to cut with a chainsaw. The only person who didn't seem to care about it was Cas and that wasn't surprising.

Dean tried to get comfortable in the backseat while Sam slowly took them back down the laneway and to the main road. Dean shifted again. This was horrible. He felt sick watching Sam drive the car when he was perfectly capable of driving. He stared daggers at Cas for a moment (it was totally his fault), then went back to shifting and squirming. Something crunched under Dean's boot. He looked down. His heart stopped. "Why is there broken glass all over the floor?"


	19. What's the point of Tylenol if it doesn't have codeine in it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was slowly sinking in that living in 2005 was going present quite a few more problems than he had originally imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Warning for Cas's terrible life choices when it comes to OC drugs and some withdrawal symptoms****
> 
> Also general apology for being incredibly late but my vegan friends invited me to a pig roast/couch burning. I know, irony. It was one of those events where you don't sleep for 36 hours, make poor life choices, eat too much, and then need a day or two and a scalding hot shower to recover from it all.
> 
> And I'll just throw in an apology about the over all quality of this update while I'm at it. I feel like this update is needlessly wordy but I'm just happy at this point that I got it out at all.
> 
> There isn't a link to The Other Story here just yet but there will be eventually. It will just be super late, as in next update late. Sorry. Again.

"Look...I....I understand. I was raised in... _that_ and even I wanted out. It's...I get it Jess I do. Don't feel like you have to....."

"Sam, I love you, I do, but this is a bit much to take in all at once. Can we maybe wait to have this conversation somewhere.....

".....a little more private?"

"Yeah, and maybe when you're not covered in dirt from a dead woman's grave."

The words were barely audible over the sound of wind rushing past the broken window but Dean could hear them. He kept still, eyes closed, half awake and groggy, and pretended all he could hear was the wind. A life time of living on top of each other had taught him how to not hear things; how to give that much needed privacy to someone when you were always three feet away from each other. He hunkered into the warmth around him and let himself sink back into sleep.

Sometime later the absence of a rumbling engine woke Dean up and if that hadn't done it Sam turning around and giving him a brotherly slap up the side of the head would have.

"Dean. It's your turn to drive."

Dean's eyes flicked open. It was dark out. He blinked a few times and frowned when he realized something warm and heavy was pressed up against his side. He gave it a shove, " _Cas."_

A noise that sounded suspiciously like _go fuck yourself_ clawed its way out of Cas's throat. Cas squeezed his eyes shut against a massive skull-splitting headache. Whoever was waking him up this early could try their luck outside the fence with the croats if they didn't go away right the fuck now.

"Get off me." Dean shoved him again. He gave an exasperated huff before giving up and just opening the car door. Cas tumbled out after him swearing. Served him right for getting all weird and.... _cuddly_ , while he was asleep and couldn't tell him to screw off. Dean stretched his legs out while keeping an eye on Sam and Jess. They had walked off a little ways. Sam had his head bent down listening to whatever it was Jess was saying. That couldn't be good....well it was for him. If Jess left Sam that'd be one thing less holding Sam back from helping him find Dad. Not that he wanted them to break up it'd just be....easier that way.

The present came hurtling back to Cas as he fell half out of the car. He swore as he pulled himself upright. His head pounded along with his heart. He was regretting over medicating the last few days. He should have rationed himself better. He'd have to make do with what he had left until he worked out how to maintain his habits in 2005.

Low grumbling made Dean look back at the car. Cas had picked himself up and was screwing around in the front of the car. Dean jogged over because no goddamn way was Cas driving his baby, "Hey! You leave my car alone! Your license is revoked!"

"You can't revoke it. I don't have one." Cas said taking the keys out of the ignition. He stood upright too fast and was gifted with the throbbing knowledge that, yes he was still alive and life hated him. He put a hand to his head trying to massage the pain away, while the other wiped at his now runny nose. He went around to the trunk.

"What're you doing now?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"What's it look like?" Cas retorted digging through his duffle bag. He pushed aside bundles of cash and loose bills rooting through it for anything he might have missed. He didn't even find a loose pill. That was just like Dean; send him to the past to dry out. Asshole. Well, he'd remedy that soon enough. In the meantime he'd just have to get by with what he had left....which wasn't all that much. Fuck (no really, **_fuck_** _!)._

"Dude, you have got a _problem_ if you can't go a couple of days without." Dean said watching Cas open up that last nearly empty bottle of mystery pills.

"I'm aware." Cas said dryly. It wasn't news to him. He poured the contents of the bottle into his hand and looked them over as his head pulsed in pain to the beat of his heart.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Oh, good. As long as you're _aware."_

"Could you stop talking? Your voice is particularly stridulous today." Cas said sniffling. He stared at the pills in his hand. His choices were limited. By some fluke he had a tablet of buprenorphine– pain relief with the added bonus of fooling his brain into thinking he had taken something worthwhile– but one tablet wouldn't do him much good. He took it anyway.

"Stridulous?" Dean didn't like the sound of that word. It sounded like something rich assholes would use because they thought they were too good to just call you an asshole.

"Cacophonous." Cas said knowing that it wouldn't help at all. He looked over the very empty bottles of Everclear in the trunk as he rubbed at his nose (goddamn did he ever hate the runny nose part). They'd have to make a stop. He closed the trunk and looked over at Dean. Dean had on that ridiculous disgruntled look he got when he had no idea what something meant but was still annoyed by it. Cas rolled his eyes up, his head tilting back with them, "Grating. Shrill. Jarring. That better?"

"Yeah. Loads better then being a giant dick." Dean said because if Cas was going to be a sarcastic asshole so would he.

"Good. I'll remember to use little words in the future." Cas said throwing the keys at him. He turned around and looked for a good spot to sit in the dark and contemplate his headache. A nearby rock looked like just the place to do that.

" _Hey."_ Dean caught the keys and followed after Cas.

"I can buy you a dictionary if you'd like." Cas said. He sat down on his chosen rock. Dean loomed over him. He craned his head up. "Maybe I should include some encyclopedias while I'm at it."

"You really are an asshole, you know." Dean said.

Cas felt around in his jacket pockets. He was holding onto the faint hope that he hadn't smoked both those joints from the other day and that Dean had somehow missed them while going through his jacket. Hope continued to be a fickle bitch. "Funny. That's what I usually call you, _Fearless Leader."_

Fearless leader? Dean's forehead wrinkled in confusion. The way Cas had said that made it sound like a swear. Dean opened his mouth to ask what the hell was that supposed to mean but Sam yelled over; him and Jess were ready to go. Dean kicked Cas's foot, "Come on. Time to go. Unless you want to stay here."

Cas dragged himself up. As attractive as sitting on the side of the road in silence was he had work to do (Fuck, he was _not_ mentally quoting Dean). He followed Dean to the car. Sam and Jess had gotten into the back. Great. No more stretching out and trying to sleep the headache off. He went around and got into the passenger seat. He shoved a hand into his hair and gently pulled trying to mask one pain with another. It didn't work.

Dean glanced over at Cas. It was obvious the dude was hurting. Good. Cas had been more trouble than he was worth since he'd busted out of that motel room closet and he was kind of an asshole and holy crap did he ever have problems....but he had shown up at the police station and then went and called him family. Shit. Dean pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed. He let his hand fall and put the key in the ignition, "We'll stop at the next place that's open and get you some Advil."

\---

The next place still open in the middle of the night turned out to be five hours later and a couple of streets over from Sam's place. Good news for Sam and Jess and a horrible five hours for Cas and not much better for Dean. Five hours of sitting beside someone who was a grouchy asshole from a headache and constantly sniffling and snorting did not make for a pleasant drive.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of 24 hour drug store. Everyone piled out of the car, which was starting to make Dean just a little bit anxious. People didn't _pile out of the impala_. For years it had just been him, Sam, and Dad; then it had been him and Dad; then it was just him; and now he had Sam back and two....acquaintances. It was different. He didn't like different when it came to his car. Different had already left her with a broken window.

Sam and Jess took off to find something to eat which left Dean and Cas standing at the front of the store. Dean glanced up at the signs overhead marking each aisle and headed for the one that looked most likely to have clear garbage bags and duct tape. Cas stood alone at the front of the store blinking against the light; the intensity causing a new wave of pain in his head. He slowly looked up. He read the signs carefully then started towards the one labelled: Pain Relief Allergy Cold Flu Stomach. Commas were apparently too expensive.

Halfway down the aisle Cas spotted a familiar name. Tylenol. He stared at the rows of Tylenol. He hadn't seen rows upon rows of Tylenol in a drug store before. Well he probably had prior to the Apocalypse but he hadn't been paying attention to it then. Drug stores were usually picked clean or were a burnt out husk if the fake flu vaccine had been given out there. Cas's eyes flicked over the red and white bottles. None of the labels looked like anything he recognized as being worthwhile (What's the point of Tylenol if it doesn't have codeine in it?). He picked up a bottle and started reading, stopping ever few seconds to rub at his nose.

Dean found Cas five minutes later still reading, "What're you doing?"

Cas put back a bottle and picked up the next one. "I wasn't aware you were blind in your younger days."

Dean watched Cas's eyes flick back and forth over the ingredients list of the bottle, "You're not gonna find anything stronger than acetaminophen over the counter."

"I can hope." Cas said. He put the bottle back and picked up a different one. It was the last bottle he hadn't read. He really had to stop hoping. Hope just lead to disappointment. He set the bottle back. He stepped back and stared at the rows of bottles. It was slowly sinking in that living in 2005 was going present quite a few more problems than he had originally imagined.

Dean grabbed a bottle of the extra strength fast release knockoff brand ibuprofen, adding it to the other items he carried (clear garbage bags, duct tape, six pack of kleenex), "Come on, Sam and Jess are waiting."

Cas grabbed a second bottle, because one was not going to cut it, and followed Dean. He came to a halt in front of the allergy medications. He scooped up a bottle of liquid Benadryl and read the back. Diphenhydramine HCl 12.5mg/5 ml. He did some quick math and grabbed four bottles (bubblegum flavour). If he couldn't find what he wanted at least he could try and get some sleep.

Dean eyed the bottles in Cas's arms. He gave a derisive snort of laughter, "Dude, it's not allergies that has your nose doing an impression of Niagara Falls."

" _Really?"_ Cas said sarcastically. He was not in the mood for Dean trying to be funny. He wiped at his nose again.

Jess and Sam had already gone through the cash and were waiting for them. Dean dumped his things down on the counter and motioned to Cas to throw his armful of children's Benadryl down with it. Why he was paying for Cas's shit when the dude had a bag of money in the car he didn't know. And now that he was thinking about it again, they were going to have to figure out what to do with that soon. They couldn't just keep driving around with it in the trunk of the car.

Dean paid and grabbed the plastic bag off the counter. He took out the garbage bags and tape as they headed out. He passed Cas his bag full of drugs. Wasn't that just great? Dean was helping him trade out one set of drugs for another. He shook his head, then tore open the pack of garbage bags. He glared daggers at Sam a couple of times as he pulled a garbage bag out.

"I said I was sorry." Sam said catching the looks Dean was giving him. "It's not like I _knew_ Cas was in there."

"You could have tried looking inside first." Dean said tearing a piece of tape from the roll. Dear god, he was about to put duct tape on his baby. He had hit a new low. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Cas pouring a handful of ibuprofen into his hand and proceed to down it with a bottle of Benadryl. He spun around, "Dude! You can't just drink a bottle of Benadryl!"

"It's children's strength." Cas said as if that made it better which in his opinion it did. He finished the bottle off and made a face, "Now I understand what false advertising means. That did not taste like bubblegum."

Sam couldn't help the laugh that barked out of him. Dean shot him another look. Jess seconded it. Sam immediately schooled his face into something more serious. It wasn't funny when someone had a drug problem. He reached out to take the plastic bag off Cas. "Why don't I just take that?"

Cas stared at Sam for a moment- he had some choice words he'd like to say- before digging through the bag again. He pulled out a second bottle of Benadryl and shoved it in his pocket, then flung the bag towards Sam. Dean meanwhile was giving him one of his patent _I'm angry and disappointed_ looks. Cas rolled his eyes. "You're so _irascible."_

Dean shook his head and muttered under his breath as he went back to taping the clear garbage bag over the window. Cas could bust out all the big words he wanted, it didn't mean shit if he didn't know the meaning of the word moderation. He was just finishing up when an ambulance blew past the parking lot. A moment later a fire truck followed. Something about that made his skin prickle.

Cas turned to watch the two emergency vehicles go by. They were something of a novelty. Loud and flashy got you killed during the Apocalypse. It wasn't as if he had never seen an ambulance or a fire truck before. He had seen plenty but four years of the Apocalypse made them startling. He felt his heart pick up with a little burst of adrenalin. The sounds of the sirens made his head throb. He poured himself a second handful of ibuprofen and dug out the second bottle of children's Benadryl. He popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down with Benadryl.

Two more fire trucks wailed past them. An orangey glow began to paint the night sky. Jess grabbed Sam's arm. She knew what that glow was- they had been in Los Angeles last month- _Fire_. She twisted her fingers into Sam's sleeve, "Sam..."

Sam was staring at the orange glow, a sinking feeling going through his stomach. Those fire trucks were going towards their neighbourhood.

"What's everyone staring at?" Dean asked folding the end of the duct tape over to make a tab so he didn't spend fifteen minutes picking at the next time he used it (someone had to think about these things).

"Probably their apartment [burning](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4771779) down." Cas said tossing the empty Benadryl bottle towards a nearby trashcan (and missed).

Dean snapped his head around, " _What?_ I thought we stopped that."

Cas shrugged. They had stopped Jess from being there but that didn't mean the demon wouldn't just burn the apartment down anyway, "Demons aren't known to be picky about destruction."

There was a general scramble by everyone to get in the car; except for Cas. Cas took his sweet time. He didn't see why it mattered. It wasn't like they could do anything about it if Sam's apartment was burning down. It either was or it wasn't and they couldn't change a damn thing if it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buprenorphine: is used to treat opiate derived withdrawal symptoms. 
> 
> The Topanga Fire: September 28 to October 6 2005. Just shy of 100 km2 burned north of Los Angeles. That's what Jess is thinking about with the "had been in Los Angeles last month" line.
> 
> Somewhat of an odd question, but is Tylenol packaging actually red and white? I wrote this when no one was around at my house to ask so I had to just assume that I have the colours right and weirdly google did not help me on this front. I have some colour deficiencies. So red-orange-brown sometimes tricks me (among other colours).
> 
> So....I'm gonna admit to a terrible continuity error. As far as I can tell Benadryl didn't start making children's liquid allergy (bubblegum flavour) medication until at least 2009. I know, it's 2005 in this fic. It really should be the adult tablets allergy medication but I just really liked the idea of Cas downing bottles of a children's allergy medication for the diphenhydramine; twisting this innocent children's allergy syrup with bubblegum flavouring in a futile attempt at staving off the symptoms of withdrawal. So I retconned Benadryl's bubblegum allergy formula into reality four years early. Please forgive me.


	20. How important is that interview?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good. Go." Cas said over his shoulder while dropping Dean's bag to the ground. He started to usher Sam and Jess towards the motel– despite their ridiculous protests. "See you in a couple of years when you try to sell your soul."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laaaate. So laaaate. August has just turned into a crap month for timely updating. I'm going to try and build a buffer.
> 
> (I tend to tell people how horribly late I'll be here: [Brains for baby jesus](http://brainsforbabyjesus.tumblr.com/))
> 
> The link "old wounds" goes back to an older update in The Other Story but it was relevant so it got worked in twice. It was previously linked to in chapter 3.

Dean pulled up as close to the apartment as he could get. The fire department had blockaded most of the street and there was the usual crowd of people who had come out to watch. Dean stopped the car just in time to watch the windows blow out, "Holy shit."

Sam and Jess had taken their seatbelts off to lean forward and watch. Sam tugged Jess closer. A cold tremble crept through him. This was far to close to the nightmares he had been having lately.

Cas stared at the blaze dispassionately. It was just a building burning down. He had watched St. Louis [burn to the ground](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/4772607) four years ago. This was a campfire in comparison. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his head trying to will away his headache. He opened one eye when he realized they weren't moving. He watched Dean, waiting for him to start putting a plan into action. It didn't happen. Cas looked over his shoulder. Sam and Jess were staring transfixed by the fire as well. Cas sighed, letting his head tilt back. He rolled his head towards Dean, "I hate to break it to you, but if Sam's apartment is on fire that means there's a demon afoot."

"Shit." Dean swore under his breath. He tore himself out of his stunned trance. Cas had been telling him this would happen all week. Sure he had told himself he believed it but _seeing it?_ He hunched his shoulders together against a disturbed shiver. He got the car going and got off the street as fast as he could, which wasn't that fast considering how many people were milling about watching Sam's building burn down.

"What do we do?" Sam asked pulling Jess closer towards the middle of the seat. He didn't like the idea of her being near the windows. Something could see her.

"Phone Dad?" Dean suggested as he focused on trying to get away from the fire and not run anyone over....though maybe if he _did_ run someone over he'd hit the demon...okay, running people down blindly was not an option. It probably wouldn't even hurt a demon. "He took off from that hunt. Maybe he was coming here?"

"He's not here." Cas said still rubbing his forehead. The ibuprofen hadn't started working yet, not that he expected it to help much.

"How do _you_ know that?" Dean shot back, voice raised. Cas had been telling him he didn't know where Dad was all week. Dad could be anywhere. "You've been telling me for days that you don't know where he is."

Cas curled his lip back at Dean's raised voice. Was Dean was _trying_ to make his headache worse? He glared over, "Educated guess."

Dean glared right back at Cas before digging his phone out of his pocket. He tossed it back to Sam. He rattled off all the contacts in his phone that were actually Dad.

Cas ignored them all in favour of rubbing at his head. He pressed hard and rubbed his fingers against his temples, across his forehead, and down the bridge of his nose. This headache was shaping up to be one of the worse ones. He needed to drink some damn water and find somewhere dark and quiet- Sam and Dean started arguing over what to do next- and everyone else needed to _shut the hell up_. Cas rubbed his hands over his face. Jesus fucking christ, had Dean and Sam been like this when he first met them and he just hadn't noticed?

A flickering red sign came into view. Vacancy. Cas squinted at it through the pain of his headache, "Pull in up there."

"What?" Dean glanced along the side of the road quickly spotting the sign. They weren't going to stop at a freakin' motel when a freakin' demon had just burned down Sam's apartment. Jesus christ, what was it with monsters and burning down houses? "No way dude, we are—"

Cas grabbed the wheel and gave it a push sending the car veering across two lanes and towards the motel.

" ** _Holy fuck!_** _"_ Dean stomped on the brake and shoved Cas away while he regained control of the car. He got the car into the parking lot and threw it into park before he rounded on Cas, "What is **_wrong_** with you!? You don't just grab the wheel! We could have been hit!"

"There was no one on the road." Cas said squinting against Dean's voice. He decided Dean really was just trying to make his headache worse via a combination of being obnoxiously loud and crap decision making skills. How the hell had Dean survived long enough to start the Apocalypse? He opened the passenger door- Dean was still going on about road safety- then reached over and grabbed the keys out of the ignition.

" ** _Hey!_** _"_ Dean lurched after Cas but came up short when his seatbelt held him back. He scrambled to get it undone.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sam asked working on his own seatbelt.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Dean snapped back as he kicked the door open. This shit was not funny. He could put up with a drunk Cas and a high Cas and a whatever the hell that had been in the motel room the other night Cas but he was not going to put up with this.

Cas went around to the back of the car. He opened up the trunk and grabbed a handful of bills from his duffle bag. Angry stomping announced Dean's presence. He shoved the keys into his pocket and started towards the motel; Dean shouted and grabbed at him. He ignored it. There was still another four hours before Sam had to go to that interview. They could rest and clean up here in the meantime.

"Hey! Don't you just walk away from me!" Dean grabbed at Cas's arm. He was jerked forward. It was like trying to stop a freight train with his bare hands. He dug his feet in. Cas came to a stop. He jabbed a finger in Cas's face, "You don't get to just—"

Cas gave Dean a shove back towards the impala. The conversation was hitting too close to [old wounds](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1563353/chapters/3332021), it was time for it to be over. Cas shoved him a second time, Dean stumbled back. He stalked after him, "Would you shut up for ten fucking minutes? I have an atrocious fucking headache on top of having to deal with the _pinnacle_ of Winchester bullshit. Bullshit that I have been putting up with for _six. fucking. years."_

Sam took up a defensive position beside Dean, "That doesn't mean–"

"That means you are going to that fucking interview if I have to march you all there at gunpoint." Cas grated through his teeth. His head pounded at every word he said. If his Dean were here he would have some choice words for him right about now.

"I can't go to an _interview_ , our apartment just burned down!" Sam shouted back. He felt Jess come up behind him and set a hand on the small of his back. Guilt raced through him. What if he had left Jess at home like he had wanted to? He shivered, "And according to _you_ it was to get at Jess."

Cas rubbed at his face and groaned. God he hated youth. He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead and glared over at Sam, "Yes. And if you've forgotten everything on that fucking list let me remind you I have a vested interest in making sure she doesn't die but in the meantime you have a goddamned interview in four hours."

Before anyone could take up the bright fucking idea of arguing with him about it Cas spun on his heel and headed for the motel office. At this rate he was going to fail Dean before he even started. He yanked the door open to the office. The clerk glanced up from his computer. Cas took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter, "One night. One room. Two beds. I don't care what size they are."

The clerk looked up, taking in Cas; a scruffy looking guy in a jacket covered in dried mud looking like he was ready to murder the next person that slighted him. The clerk sat up, one hand over the emergency button under the desk while the other clicked the mouse a few times. He gave Cas a price and asked for a credit card.

Cas threw down a handful of cash, not caring in the least that he was likely overpaying for the room six times over, "Is that enough to forget about the credit card?"

The clerk scooped up the money, counted it, pocketed half, then turned and grabbed a key off the wall behind him. He tossed it up to Cas, "Room twenty-two."

Room key in hand, Cas headed back to the others trying to breath deeply and calm down. Anger was only going to make the headache worse. As he drew closer his still better than human hearing picked up the tail end of a discussion that involved jumping him for the keys to the impala. He threw the car keys at Dean, "You couldn't take me anyway."

Dean caught the keys and cradled them to his chest. He glared at Cas. Cas was definitely the person to total his car in the future. He just knew it. "You wish."

"I don't wish. I know." Cas said going to the still open trunk. He dug around for salt then grabbed Sam and Jess's bag. He shouldered it. He briefly debated grabbing Dean's duffle bag and throwing it at him for making him come back to this time and put up with this crap but begrudgingly he pulled it over his other shoulder instead. He closed the trunk and turned to face three people with expressions ranging from terrified to annoyed. He rolled his eyes, "If any of you have a better plan than driving aimlessly for the next four hours I'm open to suggestion."

"Yeah. Getting out of here." Dean piped up because staying when they knew there was a demon nearby was probably the dumbest idea he had ever heard.

"Good. Go." Cas said over his shoulder while dropping Dean's bag to the ground. He started to usher Sam and Jess towards the motel– despite their ridiculous protests. "See you in a couple of years when you try to sell your soul."

Dean watched Cas push Sam along and drag Jess towards the motel. He looked back at his car then back to Sam. Fuck. This was a terrible fucking idea. He bent down and snatched up his bag then jogged after them. He wasn't going to leave Sam to deal with a demon alone.

By the time Dean caught up to them they were already in the room. Sam and Jess were having a hushed argument in the corner. The bathroom door was open giving him a view of Cas trying to chug back a glass of water from the sink. Dean set his bag down on the table and tried to figure out how to take back control of the situation.

Cas came out of the bathroom, glass of water in one hand and a handful of ibuprofen in the other. He tossed his head back and dropped the pills into his mouth. He gulped down the pills and as much water as he could. He'd taken half the bottle of ibuprofen. It should have at least taken the edge off his headache– dear god, this was a horrible one. At least his nose wasn't running as much anymore.

Dean watched as Cas snatched up the salt and poured lines along the window and in front of the door then grabbed a chair from a corner of the room and dragged it in front of the door. Dean still hadn't figured out how he was going to take control. He drummed his fingers along his thigh a few times before he decided he'd at least _try_ reasoning with Cas first and if that didn't work, well....he could totally take him no matter what the hippy said, "Look–"

"Whatever it is I don't want to hear it." Cas snapped as he sat down. He really should have rationed himself better the last few days. He wouldn't be in this shape if he had some fucking self restraint. He pulled his blade out from the back of his pants and set it across his lap. If a demon wanted in they were going to have to go through him first, "I don't care what you do for the next few hours-" He shot a glare over his shoulder at Sam and Jess and added, " _-as long as you do it_ **_quietly_** _."_

It was Jess that glared back with an expression fit for an ice queen. She turned to Sam and pointed to the bathroom. She waited for Sam to take the hint and go in before following. She cast another scowl back at Cas before yanking the door closed.

Raised voices came form the bathroom for a moment before they went quiet. The fan and the shower were turned on but Cas could still hear the muffled sounds of an argument. He rubbed at his head. He felt Dean looming over him. He glanced up, "What?"

"Don't ever touch my car like that again."

Cas's face froze in surprise. Oh....Dean was serious. He burst out laughing, which was quickly cut off in a whimper. Laughter only served to aggravate his headache.

Dean noticed the wince. Good. Cas deserved it. He folded his arms across his chest, "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you in the last couple of hours."

"Nothing." Cas retorted, "That's why my head feels like it's going to explode."

Dean ignored the attempt at wit and kept on. He stepped closer and drew himself up trying to look big and intimidating (trying? Hell, he _was_ big and intimidating), "But you pull shit like that again and I won't give a damn about your list. I will leave your ass behind."

At the back of his head Cas was appreciative that Dean was keeping his voice low and even, not that he'd tell Dean that. He raised his eyebrows in mild disbelief at the resolve in Dean's voice. For a moment it sounded like the Dean he knew. He recoiled from the thought.

Dean sat down on the end of the bed nearest to Cas. If he was going to take back control he needed to know what was going on, "Okay, so there's a demon somewhere around here with the hots for Jess and you think Sam needs to go to some interview. Why?"

"Because it's on the list." Cas said. The ache in his head wasn't getting any better but he was getting used to it. If there was one thing he knew how to do it was live with pain.

"That's it? _It's on the list._ That's why you flipped your shit out in the parking lot?" Dean asked. Cas shrugged at him. He studied Cas's face. Yep. That was _exactly_ why Cas had tried to crash them into on coming traffic. He wiped his hand over his face. What did he expect from a guy that thought it was a good idea to storm a police station on his own?

\---

Four hours later- Cas with a headache that would not go away and the others walking on eggshells- found them moving as a highly caffeinated group down a hallway. A hallway with too many people as far as Cas was concerned. They were stopped twice by people Sam and Jess knew asking if they were okay– Cas had nearly stabbed the first person but a look from Dean had stopped him. He flexed his fingers, clenching them into fists and releasing them over and over. Had there always been this many humans all over the place? Cas knew logically that the last few days would have sheltered him from the sheer numbers; that highways, roadside stops, and small towns weren't exactly where humans tended to congregate, but really, how were there _so **many**?_

Jess was fighting to keep her eyes open despite the bone deep fear that someone was trying to kill her. She wouldn't have thought it was possible that she could want to sleep this badly with the knowledge that she wasn't safe. Still, even with exhaustion fighting to drag her under she was acutely aware of all the looks they were drawing as Cas muttered and jumped and Dean scowled. If they were trying to keep a low profile to avoid some kind of demonic arsonist they were doing a horrible job of it.

Cas surreptitiously murmured christo under his breath at ever passer-by while wishing he could still feel that subtle twinge that came with the nearby presence of a demon. He was on edge and it didn't help that he felt naked without his jacket but Dean wouldn't let him wear it out of the car- it was too Mad Max apparently. At least he still had the sweater to hide behind. Another person brushed too close to Jess. He jerked his hand back to his blade but the kid kept moving. He let his hand fall to his side.

Dean nearly tackled Cas to the ground when he saw Cas's hand shoot up towards that scary ass dagger he kept hidden under his shirt. Dean was fast losing confidence that they were going to make it out of Sam's school without Cas accidentally skewering the wrong person.

Sam came to a stop in front of an office. He looked between the closed door and the people around him. Everyone looked dead tired and more than a little worried– except Cas who was looking twitchy. Sam checked his phone. He was right on time. His brother had taken him on a ridiculous ghost hunt to find Dad, he had basically kidnapped his girlfriend, his apartment had burned down, there was a demon lurking somewhere nearby, and here he was, on time for his interview.

Jess arched an eyebrow at Sam.

Sam shrugged.

Jess shook her head.

Sam sighed. He should probably have added breaking up with his girlfriend in the near future to that list of recent events.

"Is this the place?" Cas asked, his eyes darting up and down the hall. His head throbbing with each movement of his eyes.

"Yeah." Sam said. He gave Jess one more apologetic look before he went in.

The door clicked shut behind Sam. Cas stared at the space Sam had occupied as doubt consumed him. He shoved his hand into his pocket and squeezed his hand tight around the ring and amulet. Did it matter if the interview went well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that is it for Part 1. Next update will be Part 2: Save Jess.
> 
> And now I offer up a chocolate chip cookie recipe as an act of contrition for being late. These will be huge cookies that look something like the ones Jess made in the pilot. I always wonder if the Brady demon ate a cookie before he killed her.
> 
> 3/4 cup butter, soft  
> 1 cup brown sugar (Do NOT pack the brown sugar!)  
> 1/2 cup white sugar  
> 2 eggs  
> vanilla  
> 1/2 tsp baking powder  
> 1/2 tsp salt (you can be a low sodium freak if you want I find this doesn't change the taste much)  
> 2 cups flour  
> 2 cups chocolate chips
> 
> Cream together butter and sugars. Add eggs. Add vanilla. Mix. Add baking soda, salt, and flour (I add the flour 1 cup at a time so I don't end up with flour everywhere). Mix. Add in the chocolate chips.
> 
> Scoop out dough in 1/4 cup portions onto a greased cookie sheet. These need space. I put on 6 to 8 cookies at a time. To avoid cookies with little lumps and peaks in the middle mash down the dough in the middle and build up the side to make a well. Bake at 400F for 6-10 minutes or until the middle is cooked


	21. Sorry to psych you out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Sorry, this isn't actually a chapter.

I noticed that there are subscribers to this part of the series and I didn't want them to think the story suddenly ended here. The next part of the story picks up with:

[Chapter 2: Save Jess](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2223120/chapters/4876638)


End file.
